


The Sultan's Slave

by Elfflame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, BDSM, Bottom Draco, F/M, Harem, M/M, Multi, NaNoWriMo, Slavery, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfflame/pseuds/Elfflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another world, Harry Potter is sultan of the kingdom of Albion. A recent war is over, but things are still not right in the world. Especially for a young man in his harem named Draco, who longs to catch his sultan's eye.</p><p>Completed! 8/4/13</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Slave Claimed

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my NaNoWriMo from 2008, which is definitely one of my favorites I have done for the challenge. Heavy BDSM and slavery elements here, as well as some dark aspects. I wove in the HP world, so the past war is much equivalent to the war Harry and his friends went through, though, of course, with different outcomes given the differences in the world.
> 
> This world is circa 1700s or 1800s, so definitely not the world of equality for all. Slavery, women as concubines rather than companions, war, famine, injustice... I'm sure there will be a bit of something to offend here, and I can't promise I'll solve every issue everyone will have with it, but I hope you will allow yourself to suspend judgment and read anyway.
> 
> The chapters themselves are long. About 3-8k each, so definitely plenty here to read.
> 
> Huge thank yous to Kabal and Kit, who both helped me immensely with this over the years, and also to everyone who read the original back on IJ when I first posted it. Any con-crit is welcome, as I know there are still some small rough points, but hopefully I got most of them.

The long stone hall of the Palace of the Great Sultan of Albion was silent as the guard led Draco to the Sultan’s quarters. They’d walked this hall a number of times before as the guard escorted Draco to and from his duties in the palace. 

The guard himself was the one who usually retrieved slaves to tend to Sultan Harry each evening if they were needed. His red hair was as fiery as his temper, and slaves were more likely than others to be on the receiving end of it, so Draco was always careful to keep his tongue when the guard arrived to escort him.

Still, the couldn’t help but notice the other man, and how he reacted to others. One thing he knew was the man seemed to have a fascination with the women’s quarters. Though there was a more direct route to the Sultan’s quarters, the guard always took the longer route which passed by the door to the women’s quarters, and it made Draco wonder if perhaps he was lusting over one of the sultan’s wives. Still, so long as the other man didn’t try to take his temper out on him, he’d hold his tongue about it. But he had long ago stored the knowledge away for future use, just in case.

Though Draco had been here in the palace for five years, he’d never gone beyond the slave quarters, except to visit the few private rooms he had been sent to for his duties on one evening or another. But he could not stop himself from hoping someday he might become the Sultan’s personal slave. He wanted no one but the sultan to touch him, and he hoped some day he might even be more than a simple slave, though he knew deep inside, his dreams were hopeless. He couldn't stop himself.

One of the other slaves, a young man called Blaise, often warned him of thinking in such a way. “It only brings pain, Draco. Focus on your duties, and find simpler things to keep you happy. And be glad you can find anything that does.”

It was advice Draco couldn’t take. He knew life could be better. He had lived it, once. The problem was, he knew he would never be the Sultan’s equal. Even if he was, he would never be able to have him to himself. So the best he could hope for was the Sultan choosing him as his favorite, and hope he could be happy with that alone.

For three years now, all his time had been spent learning and using every trick and tool the other slaves used to make themselves attractive to the men they were sometimes sent to serve. Draco knew sometimes others were even called to please the Sultan like that, though none were willing to speak of what he asked of them on such nights. Nor were they willing to trade for those nights, no matter what Draco offered. All he could do was hope that the Sultan would finally ask for him one night, rather than sending for one of the others.

Unfortunately, first the Sultan would have to know who he was before he could choose him, and Draco was fairly sure he did not. So he was constantly bartering with the other slaves to take over duties tending to the Sultan. Tonight for the first time he had been asked for specifically, and that knowledge made Draco’s heartbeat speed up. Hopefully, it meant the sultan was finally aware of him at last. Hopefully tonight would be everything he ever dreamed of.

The guard turned the corner, leading the way to the Sultan’s private quarters. Draco had lost track of how many times he’d walked this hall now, but he could still remember the first, determined the sultan give him to the young man he had seen at the victory celebration of the end of the war. No matter what it took. He could also remember the thrill at looking up to see that very man sitting at his desk, distractedly writing something. It had been almost too much to believe, that the man he wanted and the man who owned him were one and the same. It still gave him a thrill even now.

The guard waved him into the room, and Draco moved to the cushion to the side of the door dropping onto it, his eyes downcast. “Be part of the furnishings.” That was the first thing any good slave learned, though it had taken a good deal of time for Draco to learn that particular lesson. He had not been born a slave, and had fought becoming one—until he learned whose slave he was. After, nothing else had mattered. He had worked especially hard to become the sort of slave any master would be proud to own, drinking in each and every lesson Blaise could offer him. He needed to be perfect. After all, he wanted to make his sultan pleased.

“Ron. Thank you.” Draco let the words wash over him, the calm and gentle voice soothing him in a way no other could. The words weren’t meant for him, after all, but it didn’t mean the soft voice didn’t affect him the way it had when he heard it for the first time, asking him to set up supper for him the evening.

“My lord,” the guard said, bowing low.

“I need to ask you about something before you go back to the barracks.”

“Of course, sire. What is it?” The guard moved to the desk where the sultan sat.

“This proposal of Minerva’s. You’ve heard, right?”

The guard nodded. “Ridiculous woman. To think you would ever allow women to walk about unprotected. Sure, she’s an excellent tactician, but even so… ”

“Even if I wanted to, none of the nobles would ever allow it. Only being allowed one wife? They’d rebel against me. But she’s threatening similar if I don’t. I can’t just tell her no outright. Imagine every woman in the city refusing her husband. Or worse. We'd end up with a riot on our hands. Things are uncertain enough without this—problem.” The sultan sighed, and Draco glanced up, even though he knew he shouldn't. He couldn't help squirming on his cushion as he saw him run his fingers through already-mussed dark hair.

“Dunno. William’s the better tactician, sire. Maybe you should ask him?”

“He’s on assignment. I sent him with the ambassador to Gallia.” The sultan sighed and sat back in his chair. “Well, keep it in mind? If anything occurs to you, I’d love to know what you think. You’ve not steered me wrong yet.” He smiled at the guard, and Draco’s heart turned over, even though the look was not meant for him. He looked down to recover himself, and missed the rest of the conversation, only looking up again as the guard left.

Once he knew they were alone, Draco stood and picked up the bowl of fruit laid out for the Sultan to eat, then moved to his side, holding it out for him. The Sultan reached into the bowl blindly, taking a banana, then going back to the scrolls and maps on his desk. Draco put the bowl aside, then knelt next to him, his heart beating faster because they were alone. He was always so easily affected by his lord. It was hard to keep his tongue when he was in his presence, but he was sure if the man ever gave him permission to speak, he would babble worse than any girl. The thought made his cheeks burn.

Finally, the Sultan seemed to have enough of his scrolls and began to roll them up. Draco knew what that meant, but he still waited for the order, even so. It was always possible the Sultan might want to do things differently this night. 

“Draw me a bath,” he said to Draco, not even glancing at him as he moved to his scroll chest.

Draco nodded, then stood and moved into the bathing area, stepping down into the glass-tiled room and moving to the tub. The Sultan’s rooms were filled with the best of all amenities. Especially his bathing chamber. Even Draco, coming from a privileged family before becoming a slave, had never seen a tub like this before, with tubes which brought water to the tub all on their own, no ewers of water needed. He opened the faucets, then turned away to find the oils to scent it, and poured a small amount of each in, stoppering them once more and stowing them away before pulling out towels and cloths for use this evening.

The tub was mostly full when the Sultan stepped into the room, and Draco turned off the faucets, then turned to his Sultan, his breath catching in his throat at the sight. Usually, he was the one to undress the Sultan before he stepped into the bath, but tonight, he wore nothing more than tight, thin breeches leaving very little to the imagination. Every curve and muscle was outlined sharply, and the curve of his cock was easy to make out where it was trapped between cotton and abdomen.

“Sire,” Draco said, the word barely more than breath. “The bath is ready for you. Shall I help you undress?” The words were rote, which helped him remember them, because it was getting hard to breathe between the steam and the way his heart was suddenly beating triple-time.

“Of course.” The sultan looked bored and distracted. Draco assumed he must still be worrying about the madwoman’s demand. He frowned at the thought. Didn’t she know how ridiculous she was being?

Draco moved forward, then began to untie the sultan’s trousers, pulling them down and away from his skin, already damp from the steam of the bath. The Sultan slipped out of them, then moved and sat down in the bath, reclining back against the rim of the tub, his eyes closed.

“Is your head hurting again, Sire?” Draco asked softly, moving to settle beside the tub.

The Sultan nodded slowly.

“Would you like me to massage your temples?”

Green eyes opened to look at Draco, and this time, he knew the smile was for him. His heart swelled, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “I would like that very much, yes.”

Draco shifted to settle behind his head, his fingers moving in soft, circular motions over his temples, and smiling wider when the Sultan sighed with relief. “You have magical fingers,” he said softly. “No one else ever manages to get it to fade, no matter what they try.”

The praise made Draco flush deeply, and he was intensely glad the Sultan couldn’t see his face. As much as he wanted to, he hadn’t realized he’d managed to distinguish himself in any way from the others, but it pleased him very much to know he had. “I am glad you think I am useful, then, sire,” he said softly, careful to keep all emotion from his voice.

“You are.” The Sultan’s voice took on a tone Draco couldn’t recall hearing before, but he could feel his cheeks flush at the huskiness of the tone.

“Thank you, sire. Head feel better?”

“Yes. You may wash me now.”

Draco nodded, trying to ignore that the Sultan was still speaking in the same husky tone, but shivering at what it might mean. He licked his lips, then picked up the pot of soap and a facecloth, then moved to the side of the tub, dampening the cloth in the water, then dipping it into the pot before rubbing it gently over the Sultan’s shoulder.

Green eyes watched him for a moment before closing. The Sultan set his head against the back of the tub, relaxing into Draco’s touches and smiling softly to himself.

This was a ritual performed many times before, but Draco was not used to feeling so intensely aware of the man under his fingers. Not even the first time, when everything was new, and all he had wanted was to kiss and touch. But slave was not allowed those choices. It had been some time before he’d managed to learn to repress those desires while he washed his Sultan, but now the need to do so came roaring back, and Draco bit his tongue as the cloth swiped gently over chest and peaked nipples, then down a sleek, muscled abdomen.

Before he could work his way lower, though, a hand caught his, and he glanced up at the Sultan, worried, wondering what he had done wrong. “Sire?”

The Sultan’s green eyes glinted as he pulled the cloth-wrapped hand to his cock, and Draco’s breath caught. “Touch me.” The words were growled, and Draco felt a shiver go down his back. 

“Yes, sire.” He pulled his gaze from the Sultan’s, then began to stroke the cock in his hand, unconsciously licking at his lips as he watched the head of the cock disappear and reappear from under the cloth with each stroke. He could hear the Sultan’s breath speed up as his arousal grew, and he felt his cheeks heat once more. His hand sped up, wanting so much to finally see what he had so far only dreamed about. Before he could, though, a hand curled in his hair, then he was being tugged into a hungry kiss, and he could feel as the cock pulsed in his hand. He moaned as the devouring kiss robbed him of sense, and it took him a moment to realize his Sultan had come, and he was being pushed gently away.

He blinked up at the Sultan as he rose, then flushed when he realized the man was waiting for him to bring the towel. He stood and held it up, watching as the Sultan’s body was hidden from his gaze, his cheeks burning even more.

“Clean up in here, then come into the bedroom.” The implied “I will be waiting,” echoed louder in the room than the words spoken. 

Draco nodded, watching only for a moment as the Sultan moved back to the other room, then turned to drain the tub. He scrubbed it quickly down with a cloth and dried his clothes the best he could before following the Sultan into the other room, the heat in his cheeks never quite fading. His cock throbbing between his legs made it very hard not to squirm the entire time.

When he entered the Sultan’s bedroom, the other man was stretched out across his bed, towel draped over his lap, watching the door. He smiled when he saw Draco, then patted the bed next to him. “Take off those wet things, then come sit with me.”

Cheeks flaming, Draco nodded. “Yes, sire,” he answered softly as he began to pull off the vest he was wearing, then set it aside.

“Do you have a name?”

The question brought Draco to a complete halt. Normally, men who used the slaves for sex didn’t want to know their names. And there was a secondary concern for Draco—what if the Sultan should recognize his name? He flushed and looked down while he stepped out of his loose trousers as an excuse not to meet his eyes. “I am whatever you would wish to call me, sire.”

“And if I wish to call you by your name?”

Draco stood up and looked at him, debating internally. “Draco,” he finally said softly.

“An intriguing name.” The Sultan patted the bed again. “Come here, Draco.”

Draco nodded, then moved forward slowly, relieved there had been no immediate call for the guards at his name. “Yes, sire.” He settled on the edge of the bed, still stiff with worry, though. The Sultan seemed friendly enough, but he knew enough about how this worked to know men were always friendly enough—before.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Draco.” The Sultan lifted his chin. “The opposite, I hope” He smiled. “Did you like what we did in there?”

Draco nodded slowly. It was getting harder to breathe. Everything he’d always dreamed of was coming true. “Yes.”

The Sultan smiled. “Good. Come here.” He tugged Draco gently closer, then began to run his hands over Draco’s back. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but instead, he leaned forward and kissed him deep, and Draco was unable to keep himself from arching into the kiss, his hands clutching at the sultan’s arms. 

Usually, he only tolerated the kisses or touches, encouraging whoever he was with to finish as quickly as he could without pushing too hard—he didn’t want to be punished, after all—so he could leave again. But this… oh, he’d dreamed of this so many times. And now, it was real. He returned each kiss with all of the passion he’d been holding back since learning of the sultan, his moans growing louder as the other man continued to touch him.

Shouldn’t their earlier activities have cooled off some of the Sultan’s ardor? Apparently not. He seemed happy to take his time, though. It was all Draco could do to keep from coming out of his skin—or begging. He was there to pleasure the Sultan, not the other way around. That lesson had been beaten into him well and good long before he’d even been brought to the palace. It didn’t stop him from moaning, though. Or from arching into the touches and kisses. Though he bit his tongue to keep from saying anything. Most of the things he might have said would have put him in chains—or worse. He couldn’t make such presumptions, simply because he was in the Sultan’s bed. Likely not ever. No matter how many times he was allowed there.

The sultan kissed him again, and then pulled back. “There is oil in the small table next to you. Get it.”

Draco flushed, then nodded. “Yes, sire.” For once glad Blaise had taken him in hand after he had arrived at the palace. Otherwise, he’d likely have bolted for the door. Blaise had showed him this act didn’t need to feel unpleasant, even when you didn’t particularly like the person you were with. Though for once, that wasn’t at all a problem. 

He moved to the side of the bed once more, then pulled the oil from the holder it sat in. Bottle in hand, he turned back to the sultan, holding it out to him.

The sultan shook his head. “Open yourself,” he said. His eyes were dark now, and Draco shivered, remembering all Blaise’s cautions to him about feeling too much for anyone when you were a slave. But Draco couldn’t do this and not feel something. All he could do was hope the Sultan was as kind as he imagined him.

Draco shivered, then nodded, settling on his knees and spreading them wide so his master could see. He poured a dab of oil on his fingers, then pressed one inside himself, biting his lip. One was easy, of course, but he took his time before adding the second, another of Blaise’s admonitions running through his head. “Always make a show of it, Draco. Men like that a lot. Makes them more docile. And they know you won’t run if you do it yourself.” So Draco made a show of it. But for once, he found the feeling enticing, the weight of his Sultan’s eyes on him only enhancing the effect.

“Stop.” Draco’s fingers stilled at the command, and he looked up, to see the Sultan’s interest was recovered. Had he taken something to help him recover before Draco finished tidying up the bathroom? “Come here, pretty boy,” he purred.

It was hard to hold back a moan at the words, but Draco nodded, then pulled his fingers free and crawled across the bed, dropping to his elbows, his arse in the air.

He gasped as a hand fell across his arse. “Not like that. On your back.”

The command took Draco by surprise. Few men wanted to see the face of the boy they fucked. And the fact that his Sultan did made his breath speed up. “Yessire.” The words slurred together as he hurried to comply with the order. 

He settled on his back, then looked up at the man he’d wanted for years, and suddenly felt as though there were no breath at all left in his body. The way the Sultan was looking at him… And then he was bending over him, kissing him again, then pushing his legs to his chest and grinding his cock against his arse.

Draco moaned, then tried to press up against him. “P… l-let me… please you, sire?”

“Oh, you will, pretty boy.” Without anther warning, he pressed into Draco with a loud and unabashed groan. “Yess… knew you would be this tight.”

Draco whimpered, not in pain, but in pleasure. “Ohyes… sire.” His hands clutched at the Sultan’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer. “F-fuck me.”

“I intend to.” Then he began to move, groaning as Draco moved with him.

As many times as Draco had done this for other men, he’d never felt anything this intense before. It felt utterly incredible. And he didn’t bother to hold back when his prostate was nudged, but cried out, his whole body arching under the sultan. It was hard to hold on, and when he felt fingers close around his cock, he couldn’t any longer. He came with a sharp cry, his head thrown back as the Sultan continued to fuck him hard and fast, the thrusts dragging out Draco’s climax. “Oh… ohgod. Yesssss.” 

Still, the Sultan continued, fucking him harder and faster, his fingers tightening on Draco’s hips even as his thrusts became more erratic. “Like that, boy?”

“Ohyes… please.” He flushed at the word, but it was said, and it couldn’t be unsaid. The Sultan didn’t seem displeased, though. Instead, he moved faster, his thrusts sharp and hard, then stilled, coming with a cry, then collapsing on top of Draco and panting.

For several moments, the Sultan lay across Draco’s body, and Draco’s arms curled tight around him, wanting to keep him there always. But finally, the man rolled away. Draco closed his eyes, wondering how long it would be before the Sultan sent for the guard to take him back to the slave quarters. No matter how long he was a slave, he didn’t think he could ever get used to being seen as nothing more than an object—a piece of furniture to be moved from place to place.

The Sultan sat up. “Drink?”

Draco nodded. “Yes, sire.” He sat up to get the ewer filled with wine, but the sultan stood before he could, then poured two goblets. Nonplussed, Draco watched as the Sultan returned to the bed, handing Draco one of the goblets, then settled on the bed once more, his eyes scanning his face. 

“I’ve seen you around,” he said softly before taking a sip of his wine.

“Sire?”

“You come to my quarters a lot, don’t you?”

Draco flushed, then looked down at his goblet. Pouring a _slave_ a goblet of wine? Draco couldn’t help feeling worried. “I… did not mean to upset you, sire,” he finally answered softly.

“Do I seem upset, boy?”

Draco shook his head, then looked up at him. “No?” The statement ended up sounding more a question than a statement, but his world had been upturned before, and for far less reason.

The Sultan reached out to stroke Draco’s cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you, Draco. You’ve roused my curiosity. I don’t imagine you have always been assigned to me so often, have you?”

Draco’s heart was beating faster again, the touch making him close his eyes. “No, sire.”

“Harry.”

The name made Draco open his eyes to meet those impossibly green eyes. “What?”

The Sultan smiled. “When we do this, I would like you to call me by my name. Harry.”

‘When we do this.’ Draco’s head whirled at the implication. The Sultan wanted to do this with him again? “Yes, si—er… Harry.” He managed a vague smile, his throat tightening at the smile Harry returned. God, the man was truly beautiful. Draco’s smile became more genuine with the sight. “Thank you… Harry.”

“I hope I was not too forward?”

Draco blinked, surprised the man would think this anything other than his due. “No. Of course not, sire. I’m just a slave. And it is an honour to be chosen for your pleasure.”

Harry frowned, looking down into his goblet before responding. “I do not like unwilling companions in my bed. If you do not wish it, simply say so in the future.” He looked angry now, and Draco shrank back. How could he think he would not want this? 

“Of course I…” He looked down and away from the sultan, unable to finish the statement. _A slave’s wishes matter not at all, Draco,_ he could hear Blaise’s voice say in his head. “You need not worry I did not enjoy it, sire. I was pleased to be chosen tonight.”

Strong fingers turned his face back. “I was not wrong, then? You wanted this?”

It was hard to keep the strength of his emotion from his voice when he responded. As it was, he closed his eyes to manage. “Oh, yes, sire.”

“Look at me,” Harry said, and his voice was so gentle, Draco couldn’t help but comply. This was no order, but man to man. “You would want to repeat the experience?” Harry asked.

Draco swallowed thickly and nodded, unable to say the words.

“Good.” Harry put his goblet aside, then took Draco’s as well before pulling him close. “Because I want to do this again. As often as we are able.” Before Draco’s shock faded enough to respond, Harry was kissing him again and pushing him down onto the bed once more.

It was enough to pull another moan from Draco, and his arms twined around Harry, pulling him closer.

“Never had someone respond to me so easily. It's intoxicating. So sweet and eager. Makes me wonder where you came from,” Harry was murmuring between kisses.

The words were enough to kill Draco’s ardor, and he stilled once more, wary. “Does it matter?”

Harry pulled back, watching Draco’s face. “No. I didn’t mean to frighten you. You have nothing to fear, Draco. Not from me.”

Draco turned his face away, glad the man wouldn’t push, but terrified at the same time he might change his mind, even if he did not push the subject tonight.

Sighing, Harry moved to settle beside him, then pulled him into his arms so his body was pressed against Draco’s back. “Whatever has happened to you, Draco, I assure you it will not affect you while you are here. You can even tell me whatever you need—while we are alone. And I will do whatever I can to help. Do you understand?”

Closing his eyes and pressing back against Harry, Draco nodded. “Yes, sire.”

“Harry,” Harry told him more firmly this time.

“Harry,” Draco agreed softly. It was a privilege he’d not expected ever to be granted, but now, he could barely manage pleasure at the ability, his past rising in his mind to blot out the pleasure of it. How would the Sultan feel if he knew who he held in his arms? Where, exactly, Draco was from before he became a slave?

“Talk to me,” Harry urged.

“And what am I to tell you, sir—Harry?” Draco asked, biting his lip as he waited for the answer.

The sultan sighed, then rolled him to his back. “Tell me what has you so upset. So I can help.”

“And if you cannot?”

“Then I will do my best to comfort you.”

The soft look in Harry’s eyes was almost enough to break Draco’s resolve. “I miss… my parents,” he said softly.

“Are they slaves?” Harry asked softly.

“I don’t know. They may be dead, for all I am aware.”

“I’m sorry. I could have my men look for them. Would that help?”

A spike of panic made Draco close his eyes once more. Though Harry appeared not to recognize his name, there would be no chance the same would be true of Draco’s parents. They were too well-known. “I… perhaps.”

Harry waited silently for him to say more, then smiled. “I’ll need their names, Draco.”

Draco swallowed, flushing, then nodded. “L-Lucius… and Narcissa.” He closed his eyes, waiting for the angered response when Harry realized who he was. He could already feel his dream shatter around him.

So he was shocked when all he felt were soft lips against his own. His eyes opened, and he saw Harry smiling softly at him. “I’ll have my men find them, Draco. I can’t guarantee their freedom, but I will make sure they are taken care of.”

Surely Harry couldn’t have missed who they were? But perhaps he had never heard their names, during the years when his father sent their kingdom’s armies against him? Malus might not have been a large kingdom, but his father had always been very vocal—until the day they had been captured and sent into slavery. 

Still, if Harry was willingly ignoring who they were, or if he truly didn’t know, Draco wasn’t going to question it. Not now. “Thank you,” he whispered, then kissed him again.

Harry drew out the kiss, stroking Draco’s side. “I would be pleased to tie you closer to me,” he whispered with a slightly wicked smile.

“You have already done that, Harry,” Draco whispered, flushing. “Simply by choosing me tonight.”

“Mmm. I could resist no longer. None of the other boys are nearly so tempting as you.”

“Oh?” Few of the other slaves talked of what the Sultan asked of them, though he knew the Sultan did occasionally indulge. He’d clung to the fact when Blaise admitted he had been with the Sultan once himself. But, he quickly cautioned Draco, it had never happened again. He went on to assure Draco the Sultan never chose the same slave twice for such an honour, and he shouldn’t assume that he would be allowed to have him again if he were given the chance.

“Yes. They are appealing. In an aesthetic way. But you are… intriguing. So sweet, and yet there is something more about you.” Harry’s fingers traced over Draco’s face. “You are very tempting.” He began to grind against Draco once more, and Draco swallowed before he was able to answer him.

“I’m glad I please you, then.”

“Mmm…” Harry nuzzled his neck, his hand sliding up sleek, milky skin to tweak a nipple gently. “I hope you will continue to come see me so you can keep doing so,” he whispered.

“I am yours, sire. Harry. If you wish, I am yours always.” The words were true. Even if he were not a slave, Draco was sure he would have wanted it.

“Good.” Harry shifted Draco so their hips were pressed together, and Draco moaned softly as he felt the Sultan’s regained interest press against his arse. He couldn’t stop himself, and pressed himself back against the heated length.

“Oh… yes.”

“So eager,” Harry whispered. “The others are willing enough, but none open to me so easily.” As if to prove his words, he shifted, pressing into Draco once more, biting his shoulder as he did, and Draco groaned at the dual sensation, arching back against him.

“So good in me,” he whispered.

“Yes. Like a hand in a glove.” Harry began to move, nuzzling Draco’s neck.

“Oh, sire… yes… yours. Take me.” If he’d been more in his right mind, he’d have flushed at the words, even true as they were. Instead, he arched back more, clenching around Harry’s cock as he moved, making him groan.

“Perfect, beautiful boy. I’m so glad you’re mine,” Harry whispered, reaching down to stroke Draco’s half-hard cock to full erection. “Show me that beautiful face you make when you come again,” he said softly.

Draco did his best to comply, thrusting into Harry’s hand, then back against his cock, moaning as his arousal spiked once more, and finally coming with a shudder. Once Draco climaxed, Harry shifted, pushing him to his knees and fucking him harder, finally coming with a cry, then sliding back down onto the bed and pulling Draco into his arms. 

For a time, the room was silent but for soft, contented sighs and heavy breath as the two men continued to kiss. Then Harry spoke. “I am very glad you are mine, Draco.”

Draco flushed, unable to speak, but his mind supplied the answer easily. _Always_.


	2. Two – A Slave’s Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco returns to the Slaves' Quarters, and we meet a few more characters.

The Sultan made love to Draco twice more—once before they fell asleep in each others arms, and again in the morning, before he summoned the guard to escort him back to the slave quarters. “I will see you soon,” Harry promised before the guard—a different one this morning—led him out of the room and down the hall.

Draco was so lost in thoughts of the night before that the trip back to the slave quarters seemed to take almost no time at all. He moved to his small room in the slave quarters and stripped. Grabbing his towel and bathing supplies, he walked to the pool. His skin was sticky; he desperately needed a bath.

“Draco!”

Draco stilled at the voice, then turned to smile at Blaise as he approached. “Morning, Blaise.”

“Where have you been?” Blaise asked in a slightly panicked whisper. “I’ve been worried. Did they send you somewhere after you tended to the Sultan?”

Damning his skin as he flushed, Draco shook his head. “No. I’ve just come from his quarters.”

Blaise’s eyes narrowed. “Was he awake all night?”

Draco flushed darker, the implication making it hard not to giggle. “Sort of.”

“Draco. What happened?” Blaise’s voice was hard now.

Though he knew Blaise was simply worried for him, and had always done his best to keep Draco safe, this was one instance where Draco couldn’t thank him for the effort. For once, he was happy, Blaise’s warnings be damned. “He took me. And I’m glad. It was… amazing. Everything I’d dreamed of, more, even.” He only wished that his friend could be happy for him.

Something in Blaise’s expression cracked. “Draco… ”

“No! It was glorious. Perfect!”

Blaise pulled him back into his room. “It won’t last. What then, Draco?”

Draco pulled away from him, glaring at him. “You don’t know that, Blaise. You don’t know him. Not the way that I do.”

“I’ve been here far longer, Draco. I think I know him quite well. He’s never been with any of the boys more than a few times.”

A few times… Harry hadn’t promised forever. He had promised another time, certainly. But what if Blaise was right? “I-don’t care,” Draco insisted. He’d take what he could get, and push for more, if that was what it took. Who cared what others thought? So long as Harry wanted him again.

“I need to bathe,” he said in a softer tone. “Would you like to join me?” Whatever their differences, Blaise was still his closest friend here. He didn’t want to push him away. No matter their disagreement.

Blaise sighed, but nodded. “All right. I’ll grab a towel and meet you at the pool.” He kissed Draco’s cheek, squeezing his shoulder, then headed off to his own room.

Draco took a few deep, calming breaths. Once he felt he could face the others, he made his way to the pool, setting his things on a bench there before sliding into the water. He relaxed there against the edge of the pool, ignoring the other occupants.

They didn’t pay him the same courtesy. Adrian and Seamus moved toward him, nearly-identical leers on their faces. They were the gossips of their little group, and Draco generally tried to avoid them. 

”How was it?” That was Adrian, looking far too inquisitive for Draco’s taste. 

“How was what?” he asked in his best dismissive tone.

Seamus rolled his eyes. “The sex, man! Did he hit you?”

Draco blinked at that, then felt his cheeks burn at the memory of a smack on his arse as Harry told him to lie on his back. Was that something he did with the others? “Hit me? Why should he hit me? I’m a well-behaved slave.”

The two slaves glanced at each other, snickering. “Oh, you’ll find out, friend. If you spend more time with him, that is,” Adrian assured him.

Scowling, Draco opened his mouth to tell Adrian what he could do with his opinion, but then Blaise was sliding into the water next to him, glaring at the other two. “Get out.” Draco saw the warning in his eyes, and couldn’t help wondering what he was warning them about.

Apparently the other two saw it as well, and backed off, though they didn’t leave entirely, watching Blaise and Draco, just out of hearing range.

“Blaise, what…?”

“Just ignore them, Draco. This is what I was trying to tell you. You can’t possibly understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. Everyone will be jealous. Even if it’s only the once, suddenly everyone will want to know. Or get even.”

Draco blinked, swallowing, and felt the blood drain from his face. “Get even? What do you mean?”

Blaise sighed. It was something he did often when it came to Draco, who never seemed to quite understand what was expected of a slave, or the world that he now lived in. But it was hardly Draco’s fault he hadn’t grown up in this world the way Blaise had. He was only glad that Blaise continued to help him.

“Some people see being a slave as… a stepping stone. That all you have to do is find the right way to get your claws into someone, and they will pamper you, turning you into less of a slave, and more of a pet.” Blaise looked as though the very idea was utterly disgusting, but Draco felt a flutter in his stomach. 

“Pet? You mean… like keeping you on a leash?”

“For some. For others…” He sighed again. “It’s complicated. And usually negotiated between master and slave. It is comfortable, if you find the right master. But Draco… the Sultan would never-”

“You don’t know that!”

“He has ten wives! And countries are constantly offering him more. He has little enough time as it is. He hardly has time to pamper one slave over the rest. You can’t expect it. No matter what he might have said or done. To him, you will always just be another slave.”

Draco didn’t want to believe it, but he knew Blaise was right. Still, one thing was true. “He’ll always need at least one of us to tend to him on occasion, why shouldn’t it be me?”

“There are plenty of others herewho think the same, Draco. Surely you know that?”

It was true. Some who had come and gone, and some who were still around. But he knew none of them felt anything for Harry. They’d just wanted the position. “They don’t want _him_.”

“True. But that won’t stop them from hurting you if they feel you’re ruining their chances. You have to be careful, Draco. Of them. And of him.”

“He won’t hurt me. He said so,” Draco said mulishly.

“Who won’t hurt you, Draco?”

Draco flushed, turning to face the head slave, Remus, who was sliding into the water next to him. He was much older than the other slaves, and quite protective of them all. 

“The Sultan,” he said softly.

Remus glanced at Blaise, then at Draco. “Draco… ” There was pity in his eyes. Draco did not want to get on his bad side, but it was hard for him not to lash out at him for it. 

“No. He was wonderful. He didn’t hurt me. I don’t know why you both seem to believe he would!” With that, he pulled himself out of the pool, wrapping himself in the towel, and stormed away, not wanting either of them to continue their admonitions any longer.

«*»

Over the next week, Draco worried over everything that not only Harry had said, but also Blaise’s words—the other slaves as well. Did they really know something he did not? But Harry had been so kind to him. So gentle.

So when he was summoned again, he went eagerly enough, following the red-headed guard with his head bowed, not even noticing their normal route past the women’s quarters because he was so lost in thought.

Harry was not alone when they arrived. One of his wives was with him. Draco had seen her from the windows in the Slave quarters. She was lovely; long, flowing hair with a pink tinge to the pale locks. She was friendly, too. At the sight of the guard and slave, she smiled. “Ron. Here to escort me back to the nest, are you?” Her eyes were twinkling with humor. Draco couldn’t help wonder if she knew what Harry likely wanted from him tonight.

“I believe that was your husband’s intent, my lady,” he said with a smile.

“I think he’s just giving you another opportunity to speak with his cousin,” she said mischievously.

“Tonks… ” Harry admonished as the guard’s ears turned bright scarlet.

“It’s not as though it’s not true, love. You should put the poor boy out of his misery and give him her hand.”

“Nymphadora, that’s enough.” This time, Harry’s tone was far more commanding. The lady blushed prettily, then curtsied. “Yes, sire.”

“Tonks, please… ”

She shook her head, smiling. “Enjoy yourself, love.” She glanced once at Draco, then whispered something in Harry’s ear that brought a red tinge to his cheeks instead.

Draco looked down, flushing himself when he realized he was just standing there staring. He quickly dropped to the cushion to wait for the guard to lead her from the room. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t been admonished for not doing so immediately.

Once they were gone, Harry moved to his side, offering his hand. That was a surprise, and Draco glanced up at him, uncertain for a moment before he reached out to take it, rising to his feet when Harry tugged gently up. “Sire.”

“We’ve been through this, Draco. It’s Harry.”

“Yes, si—Harry.” Draco felt himself flush again, bowing his head and doing his best not to shift in place.

“It’s all right, Draco. I know… they probably trained you very carefully. It will take time. Come sit with me?”

Draco nodded slowly, taking a deep breath before meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry’s smile made his breath catch. He dropped his head once in an attempt to breathe normally again. Still, he followed as Harry led him to a large pile of cushions, gesturing for him to sit next to him. Draco sank to his knees on one of the cushions, his cheeks still stinging with heat.

“Draco, is something wrong?”

Draco shook his head. There was, of course, but there was no way he could manage to explain why being here with Harry meant so much to him. So much that he would go against the one person in the Sultan’s palace who seemed honestly to care for him.

“You seem nervous. I did promise that I would not hurt you. Do you not believe that?”

That brought to mind the things the others mentioned about Harry hitting him. Draco knew there were others who did that sort of thing, but it seemed so entirely unlike Harry that he just couldn’t believe it. “You don’t… ” The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them, and he dropped his gaze, flushing darker than before.

“Don’t what, Draco? What is it? I can’t help if I don’t know.”

The question made it all the harder to ask. Draco bit his lip. “H-hit… s-slaves?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he, too, began to blush. “Um… occasionally. Does… does that bother you?”

Draco hugged himself, his eyes sliding closed. He didn’t answer.

“It’s not like that, Draco. I don’t hit them for no reason. It’s something I like to do. Occasionally. But I would never do that unless you were okay with it.”

Draco met his eyes, horrified. “Why would I want you to?”

“Because… well… because it pleases me.”

Remembering his own assuredness that Harry would never do anything to hurt him, now Draco found himself shying away.

“Draco, please look at me?”

Draco’s eyes rose to meet the Sultan’s.

“If you do not want that, I will not hurt you. But if you ever change your mind, please… ask again? We can talk about it then, all right?”

“You swear… you wouldn’t… just because?”

“I promise, Draco. You are too precious to hurt that way.”

Precious? “But… I’m a slave. I should do whatever pleases you.”

Harry shook his head. “I allow slavery here because to work to abolish it would send us back into war, and we are only just beginning to recover, Draco. But I have never believed that any person should be treated as nothing.”

“Why… why would you care?” It was shocking to hear someone of such high rank say such a thing.

“Everyone is entitled to be happy, Draco. I lost my parents very young. It took me a long time to find my place in the world, and I was as pampered and protected as anyone could possibly be. I remember watching some of the boys in the slave quarters and wondering the troubles they must have gone through. I will never allow people to be treated as less than their due. Not if I can help it.”

Draco blinked, looking down, shocked. Even his own father owned slaves. Draco had never given a second thought to it. Not until he himself became one. “You are a better man than I,” he whispered.

Draco’s statement made Harry frown. “What do you mean, Draco? You’re a very good man.”

“I have become so, yes,” Draco said softly. “But only because of what I have been through.” Just the thought was enough to close his throat, and he turned his face away.

Harry’s arm around him eased the pain a little. “It’s not that different for me, you know. I might have been protected and pampered, but I have been through things…” His voice went quiet and neither spoke for a moment. “Experience is what brings change, Draco. It doesn’t make you a bad person that that was what it took for you to be aware of the negatives of being a slave.”

Draco met Harry’s gaze. Even now, there were things he could not admit to the Sultan, even certain that Harry knew his true name and former position. But this, he could not seem to keep to himself. “Had… a whipping boy when I was growing up. No one dared to touch me, so they punished him in my place. I thought it was great fun. I used to think of things to get in trouble for so that he would be punished.” The words were acid in his mouth, and he pulled out of Harry’s embrace. “I deserve this.”

“Stop that right now, Draco.” Harry’s voice was hard, though not harsh. “No one deserves to be a slave. Not for any reason.” His hands caught Draco’s arms and turned him to face him. “I can only imagine what you’ve gone through. But I do know you didn’t deserve any of it. No one does.”

It was on the tip of Draco’s tongue to ask if Harry thought perhaps his father did, but he held his tongue. “As you say, sire.”

Harry huffed, pulling him close for a firm kiss. “That was a toll for calling me that. I have told you to call me Harry.”

Draco felt his lips twitch up. “And if I enjoy calling you sire?”

“Then I suppose you will have to suffer through more kisses, won’t you?” Harry answered with a grin.

“I suppose so,” Draco said, the conversation helping to dispel the mood of a moment before. “Sire.”

Harry laughed, kissing him again, softer this time, and Draco pressed against him, sighing happily. 

“I am sorry,” Draco said when they pulled apart. “I did not mean to start things on such a sombre note. I just… You hear things. Sometimes it’s hard to know…”

“What is true?” Draco nodded. “I will never be angry if you ask, Draco. Anything you need to.”

“Really? Even if… it seems personal?” 

“I cannot guarantee I will answer. Especially if it has to do with someone else’s privacy. But I will not be angry. I will simply say that I cannot answer. Is that fair?”

Draco nodded slowly, his head suddenly full of questions to ask. But one in particular won out over the others, especially when Draco thought back to the woman Harry was talking to when he had arrived with the guard. “Do you _really_ have ten wives?”

Harry laughed. “Something like. I haven’t counted of late. I might have a few more. But about that, yes.”

“How do you… ?” Draco flushed, then glanced away. “Never mind. Too personal.”

Fingers stroked over his cheek before Harry gently pulled up his chin. “They are like… friends. Or, in some cases, like cousins that I am required to care for. Many were gifts after the end of the war. A more pleasant way of ensuring a connection between our country and those who fought against us.”

It still sounded strange to Draco. That was one way Albion and Malus differed—his father only had one wife. He’d even often joked that his hands were quite full with one, and could barely comprehend having to deal with several demanding women in his life. “So… you don’t sleep with them all, then?” Draco felt his cheeks heat, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from asking.

“The night of our wedding, I do. After… depends on a lot of things. I’m really only close to a few of them, though. Like Tonks.” Harry smiled softly. “She was my first.” He looked embarrassed, but smiled fondly. “She’s kind of like an older sister, almost. It was only natural. When she had James… ”

Draco felt his heart sink at the words, but he tried to echo Harry’s expression. “It sounds as though you love her very much.”

“She understands me in a way the others do not. I’m comfortable with her.”

Comfortable was an odd word to use for someone you were in love with, Draco thought. But he didn’t say so. “I am glad you have her, sire.”

Harry smirked wickedly and stole another kiss, making them both smile. “May I ask where that question came from?”

Draco shifted against him, thinking of Blaise’s words. “Just… something Blaise told me.”

“Why would he mention that? Is that the sort of thing that is generally talked about in your quarters?”

“Um… no. He was worried about me.”

Harry frowned at that. “And he thought that telling you about my wives would help distract you?”

Draco swallowed, shaking his head. “Dissuade me.” Seeing the expression on Harry’s face, he was quick to add, “He worries about me. Takes care of me.”

“Is he jealous?”

“Of… Oh, no, sire. He… ” Draco stopped. He’d been careful to keep from saying the words before now, but it was hard not to with this explanation. “He… doesn’t believe in love.” The words stuck in his throat, and he stilled, horrified at what he had just said.

Harry was silent for a time, but Draco couldn’t manage to look at him. What if the Sultan was horrified by the very thought that Draco loved him—already? Perhaps he wouldn’t want a slave boy mooning over him?

“Why is that?”

The words gave Draco the courage to meet Harry’s eyes. There was no disgust there. Only concern, and, just perhaps, something more? It took him a moment to remember the question. “I don’t know that I should say, sire. It was told me in confidence. Suffice to say that he does have his reasons.”

“I know you want to protect your friend, Draco, but… perhaps I could help him?”

Draco bit his lip. “Why would you do that? He’s not unhappy. He says being your slave is a good thing. That you take care of us.”

“And yet he worries about you getting too close to me? Why? Perhaps there is a way to make him happier as well?”

The way Harry stated the question made hope rise in Draco. Not only for Blaise, but for himself. Did Harry mean what he hoped? “You would not be upset? Punish him?”

“Has he done something to be punished for, Draco?” Harry’s expression was soft, if slightly concerned.

“No. Just… he’s so worried that it will get out.”

“If there is nothing I can do, I will keep quiet, and he will never be the wiser. And if I can… ”

Draco nodded. “All right. Thank you.”

Harry smiled, giving him a soft kiss. “I take care of my people, Draco. All of them. Whatever it takes.”

Smiling, Draco leaned against him. If he were honest with himself, he had hoped that perhaps telling Harry Blaise’s story might make his friend happier—so that he would feel more free to spend time with Harry.

“Blaise has been a slave longer than I. Most of his life. He does not remember any other life. When I arrived, Remus assigned him to me so that I would not go through everything alone. He is a good friend.”

“I’m glad you have someone who takes care of you. I know sometimes slaves can be dangerous. Fight with each other.”

“Or worse,” Draco agreed, trying not to remember some of the things he’d been through before he had come to the palace. “Anyway… When I realized who you were… ”

“Realized?”

Draco flushed, not realizing he’d not mentioned how he’d discovered who Harry was yet to him. “Um… I… didn’t know who you were when I first saw you.”

“No?”

Licking his lips, Draco shook his head. “No. It was a large party. There were many nobles there. I just thought you were one of them.”

“So how did you find out?”

Draco knew his cheeks grew darker, but he didn’t try to hide from Harry’s gaze. “I… traded with another slave the next time you sent for one of us. I was going to convince you to… ” He swallowed, licking his lips once more. “…To give me to him.”

Harry’s arm tightened around him. “Was being my slave so onerous that you wanted to be free of me?”

“No.” Draco’s answer was soft, but he didn’t shy away from it. “I just… wanted him. Except… I never expected you would be him.”

“A good surprise, I hope?”

“Oh, yes, sire.” 

Harry kissed him, pulling him closer. “Good. So… you realized you wanted your Sultan. And then?”

“Well… when I told Blaise who I wanted… He was horrified. First that I’d tried to get you to give me to someone else, and then that I was… interested in you. He told me it was a bad idea. That I would only end up unhappy. He said I would do better to avoid you as much as possible so that I could get over you.”

“But you didn’t want to?” Harry asked softly. There seemed more in the question than Draco might have expected, but he wasn’t sure if he was just projecting what he wanted.

“No. So he proceeded to tell me how horrible it was when there was someone you wanted who you couldn’t have. How hard the uncertainty was. And how eventually, you lose them.” He leaned against Harry, setting his head on Harry’s shoulder, not wanting to think about it too much but unable to keep himself from asking for even a small bit more comfort.

“Who was it that hurt him so badly?” Harry asked softly, giving him a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to, sire. Either way, I don’t know. Blaise never told me his name.”

“Do you know anything about him?”

“Blaise said he was an adviser of yours.”

“Oh?” Harry suddenly seemed far more intent. “Is he here in the palace?” 

“No. I… got the impression that he was only here until the war ended. He retired after it was over.”

“Do you know that for sure?”

“Well, Blaise said that the last time he saw him was the night of the celebration…”

“I… think I might know who it is. But… did Blaise ever describe him to you? Just in case I’m wrong?”

“He described him a little. Older than us. Tall. Slender. Dark hair. A bit… unbending.”

Harry snorted with amusement at the last. “Yes, I think I know. Would you like me to try to contact him for Blaise?”

“I don’t know… I mean… He’d be furious with me if he found out I’d told anyone… ”

“So I can write to him. I could suggest he deserves a reward for his help in the war, and offer him Blaise. They don’t have to know where the idea came from.”

“Do you really think he would come?”

“Let’s just say that if he’s really the one Blaise wanted, he would. From what I know of him, I think he is.”

“Oh? What do you mean?”

“He gets very attached to things,” Harry said, pulling Draco into a kiss, a hand stroking down his back. “He’s not the only one, either.”

Draco felt his cheeks heat again. “Oh?”

“Mmm. Definitely not.”

“Won’t it be difficult for you to give him Blaise, then?”

Harry smirked, nuzzling Draco’s ear. “But it’s not Blaise that I’m attached to, pretty boy.”

“N-no?” Draco felt his heartbeat speed up.

“No.” He pulled Draco into another kiss, and Draco clung to him, letting him control it. So much so that when Harry pulled away, Draco felt his head spin. “I asked for you to come here for a reason, after all.”

“You did?” Did Harry just mean sex, or did he mean something more. 

“Oh, yes, Draco.” Harry gave him a wicked smile, pressing him gently into the cushions. “I’ve been dreaming of this ever since the last time you came to me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you drugged me.”

“Sire, I never...!” Harry cut him off with a hungry kiss.

“Shh… I’m glad. To have such a sweet boy like you at my beck and call.”


	3. Three - Draco’s Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and his sultan grow closer, and we learn the story of how Draco became a slave.

They made love twice that night. First on the cushions, then later on the bed, Draco arching against Harry as he came with a sharp wail, barely able to keep himself from saying those words that Blaise had assured him would ruin everything.

It was only after they’d calmed again that the Sultan finally asked what Draco had most dreaded. “If I’m to find your parents… I’m going to need to know a bit more than their names, you know… ”

Draco was glad he was facing away from him at the time. The question was enough to make him feel ill. “Do you? I mean… you… know. Right?”

Harry’s arms tightened around him, and he pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. “I know who your parents were, yes. But I need to know how it happened. And when.”

If Harry had asked nearly anything else, Draco was certain he’d be thrilled to tell. Or would have at least been more able to speak of the subjects involved. As it was, he could feel his throat closing tight just at the thought. “I… I don’t… ”

Harry shifted, turning him so that he could meet his gaze. “I know it must be hard for you, Draco. I can only imagine what happened. But I want to do this for you. And I promise you, I would never blame you for any of it. All right?”

Draco nodded. “Yes, sire.”

The room was silent for a few moments while Draco gathered his thoughts. But finally, he realized that if anyone deserved to know, it was Harry. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then settled against him so that he wouldn’t have to watch his face while he spoke. “It was… right after a big battle. I remember because father was furious they’d lost. Said something about deserters and traitors…” 

Draco sighed. “I was happy just to see him, though. As was mother. I thought… maybe now he would stop fighting. But then at supper, he began talking about pulling together a new army to go against yours.” Closing his eyes, Draco could almost see the faces of the other nobles as his father had talked. Some had seemed interested or intrigued. Others… Draco shivered at the memory of how angry some had looked.

“We went to bed that night with promises from most of them to help father if he could gather a large enough force… ” The memory of what came next made Draco’s throat close completely, though. Fire, smoke, fear… The screams of his mother, of the other women in the household. Laughter, cruel and cold… 

“Draco?” Harry gave him a gentle squeeze, and Draco shuddered, turning his face into Harry’s shoulder.

“I… I am… trying.” He looked up into Harry’s face, and the sight of Harry’s face and the concern painted there gave him the courage to continue. “I… don’t know who sold us out. Someone must have opened the gate for them, let them in. I woke up to someone pulling me from my bed. Screams. Crying. And this laugh…” He shuddered, and Harry hugged him close.

“So you didn’t see their faces?”

“Not that night,” Draco said softly.

Harry kissed the top of his head. “So… what happened then?”

“I… don’t remember a lot. It was a blur for a while. They loaded us onto wagons. But… they separated us… ” Draco still felt the fear of that moment. His mother’s wails, calling out his name, and then cutting off sharply. His heart clenched at the thought of what they might have done to shut her up.

“So… they took you away then?”

Draco nodded. “And when they stopped?”

And somehow, that thought was even worse. “They gave me to _him_.”

“Him?”

Unable to speak, Draco nodded again.

“Do you know his name?”

Draco shook his head. The slavemaster had never been called by name. Just “sire,” or “Master.” Not that a slave would have been allowed to use his name, if he’d known it.

“What happened then?”

“Please, sire… I… can’t… ” Visions of the ‘training’ he’d undergone while under that man’s care flashed through his head, and it was all Draco could do to hold on.

Harry hugged him close. “All right. I understand.”

Unfortunately, the words, instead of calming him, only made the sob harder to hold back, and suddenly, his body shock with them. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, hiding his face in Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s arms tightened around him, a warm hand stroking over his back as he finally succumbed to the tears that had been gathering for years. Soft nonsense words of comfort were whispered into Draco’s hair as he sobbed. Draco clung to him, unable to regain control of his emotions, and uncertain he wanted to.

Finally, they slowed, and Harry pulled his face up, kissing away the tears that streaked his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Draco. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Draco met his eyes, sniffling a bit. “It is fine, sire. You did not hurt me.” Not like his former ‘Masters’ had. “And I know you wish to help me.” He managed a small smile. “Thank you.”

“So… I take it… you didn’t see them after that?”

Swallowing, Draco shook his head again.

Stroking his back, Harry kissed him softly once more. “I promise you, Draco. I will do everything I can to have them found. All right?” Harry had a steely look in his eyes that made Draco nod. “I’ll do whatever it takes for you to see them again.” 

“Why? Father… I love him. I miss him… but… he was your enemy. Why would you do this?”

The look on Harry’s face softened to something that made Draco’s heart beat faster. “Not for him, Draco. For you.” He sealed the words with another kiss, and Draco let Harry’s kisses wipe his mind of anything but the man who held him in his arms.

After that, life fell into an easy pattern of visits, sometimes close together, and others separated by a week. Draco’s other duties eased. Occasionally he would be asked to attend at a party or other reception, when several hands were needed, but more often than not time was his own. Though without Harry, there was little for him to do.

On rare occasions, Harry would even ask Draco to spend a whole afternoon and evening with him. These usually came after long absences, though, so they were more to make up for having left him alone for so long.

Draco met a few more of Harry’s wives. There was the sweet, gentle Susan, who was currently round with the Sultan’s third child. Ginevra, who was the Sultan’s second wife, and mother of his young daughter, Lily. 

And then there was James. A surprisingly pleasant afternoon was spent with Harry, his son, and Tonks, whom Draco found was quite kind. She did not honestly seem to mind that Harry favoured Draco more than he he did her. Either that, or she’d been so caught up in her son, that she had not noticed their closeness. But he thought she had caught them kissing at one point, sequestered behind a large oak. And he was almost sure that she had smiled at the sight.

Others of Harry’s harem were less convivial. The brunette Lavender had sneered at him and asked Harry to remove Draco from the room until she was gone. The guard had had to take him on a long, looping tour of the halls linking the Sultan’s private room with the Harem.

Then there had been Tracey. She had acted sweet when Harry had been in the room, though she had generally ignored Draco, but when Harry had been called away, she had approached Draco, and hissed in his ear that he would never be more than a slave, and that he might want to find himself some less lofty goal than the Sultan’s bed.

And, too, Draco came to know the red-headed guard a bit better. He found himself spending more time in his presence, not only being escorted to or from the Sultan’s rooms, but also when Harry left him alone. Ron was often sent to let him know when he would be late in returning, or to have supper prepared. The conversations they had at first seemed awkward, but soon they became friendly enough for Draco to ask about the repeated teasing from Lady Tonks.

Ron flushed. “It’s nothing. You know how it is, Draco. Some things are unreachable from certain positions.”

“And yet… here I am. And Harry did not sound upset at the idea that you might like his cousin. Just at his wife’s teasing. Perhaps if you asked…?”

“Oh, I could never do that. It would presume far too much.”

And further conversations seemed to get little further. Draco began to wonder if he should ask the Sultan about the problem. But then, he was certain Harry was aware of it, and that there was little he could do to make a difference, given that he was a slave. He would just have to let them sort it all out themselves.

Instead, he focused his energy on pleasing Harry when he was able, and reading or spending time with Blaise when he was not able. Blaise had given up trying to convince Draco that what he was doing was a bad idea. It made it easier to spend time with the other man, though there were times when he could see the words lingering on the tip of Blaise’s tongue, as though he could barely contain himself. Particularly when Ron or another guard came to collect him for the evening.

Finally, he exploded one evening at Draco as he was getting ready to visit the Sultan. “Don’t you see what’s happening, Draco? You’re his… flavour of the month…”

Draco snorted. He’d already lasted far beyond a month. Gone was the time when he thought Harry might push him aside. Perhaps the Sultan hadn’t professed love, but Draco knew that he cared, and that was all he needed to know. Why else would Harry ask for him so often?

“It will end. And what then? Hm? Do you honestly think he will care forever? You will age, and he will tire of you. And then how will you live here, in his palace, ignored by him forever more?”

“It won’t happen. He’s not bored of me yet. He wants me. And you can’t take that from me. No matter how hard you try.”

Blaise growled. “Draco… ”

“What is going on?” Remus stepped into the small room, looking between the two young men. 

Draco glowered at Blaise, then turned to Remus. “I’m just getting ready to leave, and Blaise seems to think it a bad idea.”

“It’s not that!” He turned to Remus. “He’s so attached to him. When it ends…” He sighed. “Well, you know better than I. Can’t you… talk to him?”

Remus got a steely look in his eye that Draco didn’t like in the least. “I’ll speak to him. Go on.”

“I don’t have time…” Draco started as Blaise left. “The Sultan is expecting me.”

“He will wait. Draco… ”

“No I won’t listen. I’m happy. Is that so wrong?”

“You know that Blaise is worried for you. Surely you know he only has your best interest at heart?”

“He’s just… jealous,” Draco answered with a scowl. 

“I don’t think he is, Draco. I think he’s scared for you. He knows you far better than I, and even I can see the depth of the feelings written all over your face. These things never end well for the slave.”

Draco hugged himself, trying to block out the words. “And what would you know about it?”

“More than you might think. I made the mistake once myself.”

“You did?” Remus had always seemed so calm. He never lost his temper. Even when the slaves fought. “What happened?”

“That is none of your business. But I have always regretted it. Letting someone else manipulate me like that.”

“He’s not… ”

“He’s the one with the power, Draco. At any moment, he could decide he was bored with you.”

“He won’t.”

Remus scowled. “Draco… ”

“No. I… can’t. The Sultan is waiting.” He brushed past Remus, knowing the subject would likely be renewed the moment he returned to the slave quarters. But for now, he would lose himself in Harry’s arms.

When Draco arrived in the Sultan’s quarters, Harry was working over his scrolls once more, a frown creasing his brow. All of the misgivings Remus’s words had brought to the fore were forgotten immediately at that. Instead of dropping to the cushion and waiting for Harry to turn to him, he moved behind him and began to rub gently at his temples.

Harry gave a soft sigh, then leaned back into the caress. “Draco… You take such good care of me.”

“Someone must, sire. I hate how you look when you pour over those scrolls.” He pressed a kiss to the top of the Sultan’s head.

“And yet I must, despite some of the chicken-scratch that my people seem to enjoy writing in.” He scowled.

Draco glanced over his shoulder. The writing seemed clear enough to him. “Perhaps I could read them to you, sire?”

Harry looked stunned at the idea when he turned to look at Draco. “You would do that?”

“I am at your disposal, sire. Whether that mean bringing you food, or drawing your bath, or… ” He flushed slightly. “Anything.”

Harry smiled widely. “I am a lucky man to have someone like you in my household, Draco. Thank you.” He pulled Draco into a soft kiss, then stood up. “But I think scrolls can wait for a day. Though I may take you up on that offer.”

“It would be my honour, sire.”

Taking Draco’s hand, Harry led him to the cushions. “I would like that very much, indeed, then.”

They settled on the cushions, Draco on Harry’s lap, his head on Harry’s shoulder. “And how are you otherwise, sire? How is James?”

Harry smiled. “He’s wonderful. We went for a ride today. He is going to be a wonderful sultan someday.”

The idea of a time when Harry would be gone made Draco’s heart clench, and he closed his eyes, inhaling the Sultan’s scent to remind him that that was some vague future, and that in the here and now, Harry was here. With him.

A hand stroked softly over Draco’s back, and he heard Harry sigh. “And how have things been for you, Draco? Is Blaise any calmer these days about you coming to see me?”

Draco frowned and shook his head. “We fought this afternoon—while I was getting ready.” He looked up at Harry, uncertain if he should mention Remus’s interference. 

“I am sorry. Hopefully the letter I sent should be getting a response soon. My former advisor lives far from the palace, but even the slowest messenger should have gotten to him by now.”

“I hope that you don’t think I am just trying to get rid of him, sire? He is my friend, no matter how we disagree. And more than anything, I only wish to see him happy.”

“I know that, Draco. You have a bigger heart than you give yourself credit for. And whatever I might think of your parents, it is obvious they cared deeply for you.”

The words made Draco’s heart clench a bit, and he hid his face in the other man’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Simply the truth, Draco. I’m just very glad you found your way to me.”

“As am I, sire,” Draco said, smiling up at him. “Tell me how I may please you tonight?”

Harry smiled. “You always please me, Draco.”

Draco’s smile softened. “My duty… is a pleasure, sire.” He kissed Harry’s cheek softly. “Is there nothing you can think of I could do for you?”

Harry’s eyes shuttered, and he pulled Draco into a kiss. “No, Draco. Simply having you here is enough. To touch and have. I need no more.”

The answer came far too easily. The Sultan obviously wanted something, but at first Draco had no idea what it could be. “Perhaps… it is not me you wish tonight?” The words were painful, but if Harry would rather be with one of his wives… 

“No.” Harry’s arms tightened around him. “You are who I want tonight, and simply because another might agree to things you do not does not mean I would rather have them here.”

Draco felt the blood drain from his face. Harry wanted _that_? Without thinking, the question slipped from him. “Why?”

Harry flushed. “I… ” He sighed, stroking Draco’s cheek. “I do not wish to scare you, and I know the subject worries you. I swear, Draco, I would never do that to you.”

“Not unless I asked. I know. But… why do you… want that?”

“It’s not something easily explained. We don’t have to talk about this if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Draco swallowed, watching Harry’s face while he thought about it. The hope written so keenly there said more than Harry’s words, just how much this meant to him. “I… would like to understand.” To him, being hit was something to avoid. But at the same time, it was hard to deny Harry anything. Not just because of who he was, but because of how caring and open he was about this sort of thing. “Please?”

Harry hugged him close. “All right. But promise me that if I say anything that worries you, that you will tell me?”

“I promise, Sire.”

Kissing him, Harry smiled. “Well… there was a time when fighting was a part of my life. And I thought I hated it. I did hate it. But the feeling of it… the rush, the excitement… that stuck with me after. And I found myself missing it. I knew I didn’t want to do that again, but… I had to find some way to release the tension.”

“So you began to hit slaves?” 

“Nothing that simplistic, Draco. I swear. Actually… it was Tonks.”

Draco was shocked. “You… hit your wife?”

“No. Well… not at first. But she saw that I was… anxious and uncomfortable. Sometimes even after we had been together. She knew of the practice from some of her activities during the war. She is ten years older than I, and has had other lovers. It was why she was chosen for my first wife. Well… one reason, at least. Anyway… she… rolled over onto my lap, and… ” Harry flushed. “It felt… incredible. The sting in my hand. And her cries, too.”

“You made her cry?” Draco was horrified at the thought. But at the same time, he was surprised it was only a spanking. Draco’d expected Harry to tell him he’d whipped her. Or worse.

Harry smiled. “Not… like that. Pleased cries. She even encouraged me to spank her harder. And after… it was incredible.” Harry closed his eyes, then sighed, opening them to meet Draco’s eyes. “But… I’ve found that when I do that… I prefer a male lover. It seems to… last longer then.”

“Last… longer?”

“The calm.” He stroked Draco’s cheek. 

“And… you haven’t… in a while?”

“I haven’t wanted to be with any of the others since I had you, Draco,” Harry said softly.

It was more than Draco had expected Harry to admit to. “Really?” He knew he’d been the only boy Harry’d asked for specifically since that night, but he’d assumed that Harry was just trying to be kind to him.

“Truly. You affect me more than the others.”

It was beyond flattering. It was exactly what Draco had hoped for. He wasn’t just a diversion for Harry. Harry truly wanted _him_. He leaned in and kissed him, the emotion overwhelming him. “What… if we did… what would you… want?” Draco pulled back to meet Harry’s eyes.

“Draco, you don’t have to… ”

Draco silenced him with another kiss. “You say you would not hurt me. I believe you. And if this will help you… I am… willing to try.”

Harry hugged him close. “God… Draco… I… you don’t know how much I wanted to hear you say those words…”

Draco shivered. “Will it… hurt?”

“Sting a bit. Some things might, but I won’t ask that of you. If you decide you are ready for more, I will show you. But I swear, Draco. We’ll take this slow. And if all you’re willing to do is be spanked… that will be enough.”

“Spanking…” Draco let out a huff of breath. “I don’t get it. I mean… does it really… affect you?”

Harry smirked, then drew Draco’s hand down to his lap, curling it around his now-rigid cock. “That’s just from talking about it, Draco. Can you imagine what it will do to me to have you bare over my lap, touching you, spanking you, listening to your cries?”

Draco swallowed thickly, squirming a bit himself at the thought. “If I can please you, sire, then I will.”

“Oh, you will please me very much, indeed,” Harry said, his smirk widening.

Whatever Draco had expected, he hadn’t expected Harry to touch him the way he always did when they had sex. He’d thought he would be harder all around. Pull his hair, push him around, something. Instead, Harry lay with him, just kissing and stroking his back and sides for a long time. So long that Draco was beginning to get a bit anxious. 

“Sire?”

“Shh. Want you relaxed first. I know you’re scared. But I want you to see how pleasurable this can be. So that you’ll let me do it again.” He smirked at the last, and Draco flushed. 

“As you wish, sire.” He did his best to relax into the kisses and touches, though there was still a niggle of anxiety running through him when Harry finally pulled back.

He sat up, then patted his lap. “Just stretch out, Draco. I’ll take care of you.”

Draco met his eyes, then crawled across his lap, his breath a bit faster with the fears running through him. How bad could this be if the Sultan had done this with his wife? Surely it wouldn’t be as bad as… Draco blocked that thought off quickly, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He was _not_ going to think about that right now. Harry wasn’t like that.

Still, he jumped when he felt Harry’s hand on his arse. Even though the touch was gentle, it was enough to speed up his breathing even more.

“Relax, Draco.” The hand disappeared, then stroked lightly over his back. “It’s just me. Trust me?”

“I do, sire.” Or he wouldn’t have offered. And that thought was enough to calm him a bit more.

Still, Harry continued to stroke his back, his hand moving a bit lower, then over the curve of his arse, and Draco couldn’t help but push up into his hand, even knowing what was about to come. “Mmm… ”

“You are so beautifully made. If I did not know where you came from, I might be tempted to search out your origins to thank those who bore you for making me such a beautiful pet.”

The last word made Draco’s cheeks heat. “Sire?”

“Yes, lovely boy?”

“Are you going to… you know…”

He could hear the smirk in Harry’s voice. “What was that, Pet?”

“Please… it… ah!” The first smack startled him, and it was only the shock of the hand suddenly on his arse that made him cry out.

“Say it again, Pet,” Harry purred.

“P-please… sire.”

A second smack followed, followed by two more. Harry was right. It didn’t hurt. Not too much, anyway. Draco bit his lip, letting the blows wash over him. Whatever he’d expected from a beating from his Sultan, this had not been it, settled across his lap like a pampered pet, a hot sting making him want to squirm or pull away… or… He flushed, trying to stay still, but Harry’s hand stilled again, and stroked over his arse, the stinging tingling more where he touched.

“God, your skin is perfect for this, Draco.” A finger traced a pattern over the marks. Something Draco vaguely realized was likely a hand mark.

“O-oh?” He shivered.

“Are you all right?” Harry’s voice was softer, and he stroked over Draco’s back once more.

Draco nodded.

“We can stop.”

“No. Really. It’s… okay.” Draco swallowed thickly.

“Just… okay?”

Draco’s flush darkened. “I… it… stings.”

“Mmm… yes, I imagine it would.” Harry’s fingers were back, tracing the marks on his arse. Then they dipped lower, stroking gently over Draco’s entrance, and Draco couldn’t hold still any longer. He gasped, pressing back and up against the fingers.

“Oh!”

“God… can’t wait to feel you around me, Draco. Feel this warm arse against me every time I thrust deep…” Even as he spoke, his fingers continued to play over him, passing lightly over his hole, then moving on to his marks once more, and Draco couldn’t resist rocking back into the caresses, though he bit his tongue, trying not to make noise, and flushing darker when soft whimpers began to escape his hard-bitten lips.

“That’s right, Draco. Let go. I have you.” Another smack came, and Draco didn’t even bother trying to hold back the cry of shock, his whole body clenching with—he couldn’t deny it any longer—pleasure.

“Yes.” Harry continued, stroking and smacking until Draco was grinding hard against his leg, on the verge of begging. “On your knees, pet. Need you. Now.”

Draco didn’t wait for more. Even in his highly aroused state, the order cut through everything else, though he couldn’t resist pushing his arse into the air a bit. He did bite down on the pleas to fuck him already. If he’d known… 

And then, Harry was slicking him, and it was all he could do not to come all over the cushions. “Ooooh… sire… yes… .Ohgod…”

“God, Draco…” And with no more than a minimum of prep, Harry was pushing into him, his hand coming down with another smack on his arse as he pushed inside.

Draco cried out, clenching tight around him, then pushing back to get more. “Ohgodyes!” He’d never imagined anything like this could feel so good. It was like his whole body was on fire. “Harry… Yes!”

Harry’s hands clutched at Draco’s hips, setting up a nearly-punishing rhythm with his thrusts, pulling wordless cries from Draco as he fucked him, particularly paying attention to that spot inside him that made him clench hard around him. 

Finally, it was too much, and Draco’s cries became sharp whimpers of almost-pain with the need to hold back for the Sultan. Harry draped himself over Draco’s back, his fingers closing around Draco’s cock, stroking him as hard and fast as he was fucking him. “Come, pet.”

And with a sharp cry, Draco did, the world whiting out around him, nearly insensible as Harry came deep inside him.

The two curled around each other after. Draco was unable to speak for a long time, and Harry seemed willing to let him rest for a bit. Finally, he pushed back Draco’s hair to meet his eyes. “Are you all right?” His eyes were kind, and his expression concerned.

“Oh, yes, sire. I… it… was fine.”

The words brought a smirk to Harry’s lips. “Fine?”

Draco flushed, and he tucked under his chin, not quite hiding his face, but nearly. “Better than I expected. Does it… always feel like that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Harry kissed him again, then hugged him close. “You were incredible, Draco.”

The flush on Draco’s cheeks grew deeper. “Thank you, sire. You were… far more gentle than I expected. It was wonderful. Thank you. For being patient with me.”

“It was worth it. Your passion has always been wonderful to see. I knew if you were ever able, that you would be the best Pet I could ever hope for.”

The repeated use of the word reminded Draco of Blaise’s misgivings once more. And now that things were calmer, he had to ask. “Pet?”

This time, Harry was the one to flush. “It is… nothing. Just… a word. If you don’t like it, I will not use it.”

“No, it’s… fine. But… Blaise suggested that the term might mean something… more?” He tried not to let himself hope too much. He was a slave, and it was hardly his place to ask for more than he had already been given.

Harry cupped his cheek, looking a bit apprehensive, and, dared Draco think it, hopeful. “Do you want it to, Draco? Do you truly want to be an even greater target for the others than you already are? To be my Pet… many would try to get to you. And not just my wives or the other slaves.”

The reality of the suggestion was almost too much for Draco to bear. “You want… ”

“Only if you wish it, Draco. You are precious to me, but I do not wish to see you harmed merely because I want more… ”

Draco closed his eyes, the words he’d been scared to speak for so long on the tip of his tongue. He kissed Harry, desperate, hoping to somehow transfer them to Harry’s mouth, so that they would not need to be spoken aloud.

Harry pulled back, stroking Draco’s cheek. “Tell me,” he whispered.

In the rush of emotion, Draco had lost track of what the conversation was. “I love you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to call them back. Would it all end now? He closed his eyes, scared to see Harry’s reaction.

It was only when Harry hugged him tight that Draco managed to open them again. “I know. How could I not? And it pleases me that your passion is only for me.” He pulled back to meet Draco’s eyes. “Does that mean you want to be my pet?”

Eagerly, Draco nodded. “Yes. Yes, sire. I’m… whatever you want of me. To be yours even more than before? I can’t… imagine a better fate.”

“Even if it means I will have to spank you more?” Harry asked with a sly look and a small smile.

Draco flushed, but this time, he managed a smile. It had been quite nice. Once he had let go of his apprehensions. “Even then.” He sealed his words with a kiss, amazed that, despite saying those words that Blaise swore were so terrible, he was still here, in Harry’s arms. That Harry still wanted him. More—that he was being given even more than he had ever dared to hope for.

“All right, then. I’ll have a small room set up for you here.”

That surprised Draco, and his eyes went wide. He would be able to stay here always? “What?”

“It will give you a retreat, if things in the slave quarters get too dangerous. Or if I want you here for longer than a day. And a place to be comfortable if one of my wives is here.”

The thought of being near while Harry was with his wives was one Draco didn’t want to think on too much, so he focused on the idea of having a place near Harry instead. He curled his arms around Harry, hugging him tight. “I… hadn’t expected…”

“Me to want you so close?”

Draco shook his head. “I don’t know… special treatment, I suppose…”

Harry smiled. “You are special, Draco. Very special.” He kissed him again. “I do ask one thing, though…”

Worried, Draco bit his lip, meeting Harry’s eyes. “Yes, sire?” 

“If you are going to be my pet… I will want to do this more. And I would ask that you try… a few other things.”

Draco swallowed thickly. “Oh?” Other things would likely not be good. He only hoped that they, like this, wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

“We will go slow. As slow as you need. But if I am to choose you over others… ”

Heart fluttering, Draco nodded. “Yes, sire.” He kissed him. “I will try.”

The smile on Harry’s face made it worth it. And really, it hadn’t been so bad. He could do this. For Harry.


	4. Life with the Sultan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco moves into the sultan's quarters, but finds it not everything he imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is fan art that inspired the dancing scene in this chapter: [On My Command](http://hd-fanart.livejournal.com/104513.html). The art was done by [mystkyten](http://mystkyten.livejournal.com/) for the 2008 art fest on hd_fanart over at LJ for a prompt I suggested based on what was still only an idea at the time. I planned on doing this story for Nano, and couldn't resist the option of seeing art of the two of them in such a setting. I highly recommend giving it a glance, as it really is quite gorgeous.

Unfortunately, when Remus got the news that Draco would be moving, his reaction was frightening enough that the rest of the slaves in the room scattered and hid from his fury. Draco had assumed the other man was simply being cautious when he had lectured him the day before, but he had never seen Remus in such a rage as now.

Remus stormed to the guard on duty, eyes flashing. “Take me to the Sultan. I will talk to him about this.”

“He’s in meetings all morning. You’ll have to wait.”

Draco shrank back at the look on Remus’s face. He had thought that Harry’d meant he would face others’ jealousy, but this he had not expected.

“I don’t care what you have to do. Tell him Draco is not leaving until I speak to him. That should get his attention.” Remus’s eyes were growing darker with every denial by the stubborn guard, and Draco hugged himself. He couldn’t understand what was causing this. Remus was usually so calm.

The guard looked Remus over as though uncertain how to respond, but he didn’t seem to find Remus nearly as threatening as Draco did. “I will speak to him, but I doubt he will change his schedule just for you.”

“Tell him anyway,” Remus growled.

The guard shook his head, but left, and Draco shrank back against the wall, uncertain what Remus would do now that there was no one else to focus his anger on.

He needn’t have worried, though. Remus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then looked at Draco. His voice was calmer when he spoke. “I know you think it a good thing, Draco…”

“I don’t understand why you are so angry. What has he done wrong? He asked me. I said yes.”

“You are a slave, Draco. What will happen when he moves on to someone new? Right now, you are his favourite, but that will not last forever.”

“How can you possibly know that?” Draco asked him indignantly.

“Because he’s just like his father,” Remus growled.

That brought Draco up short. “What?”

“I was his father’s favorite. Before…” He turned away.

Draco didn’t know what to say. “But…” He sighed. “You don’t know…”

“I know far better than you, Draco. I have been in this palace for most of my life. I know how these things work.”

Draco didn’t want to believe it. All he could do was believe that Harry was different from his father. He wanted to ask what had happened, but he knew it was best to stay silent. If Remus wanted to tell him, he would find out. If not, it was better not to push.

Instead, he went to his room to pack his favorite things in a small bag. The outfits he knew Harry liked, a few pieces of jewelry, his comb, his scented oils, and anything else he was certain he couldn’t live without for more than a day. It wasn’t much. It barely filled the bag, really. Finished, he sat down to wait near the entrance to the slave chamber, hoping he could just leave with no further arguments on Remus or Blaise’s parts.

It was well into the afternoon before Harry appeared. It was the first time Draco had seen him in the slave quarters. He stood, but Harry shook his head, then turned to Remus and led him to the head slave’s room.

He bit his lip when he heard Remus shout at Harry. What if Remus managed to convince Harry this was a bad idea after all? 

Blaise eventually came to sit with him, leaning against him, his arm around Draco’s shoulders. He said nothing, which Draco was grateful for. Draco knew he hoped that Remus would convince the Sultan this was a bad idea, but even so, he was still glad to have the company.

Remus’s raised voice finally quieted, and Draco couldn’t help but hold his breath. When the two men came out of the room, Draco looked from one face to the other, trying to tell what have happened. Harry moved to stand in front of Draco and held out his hand. “Come on.”

Draco glanced at Remus, who seemed to be resigned that this would happen, and nodded. Taking Harry’s hand, Draco rose to his feet, glancing at Blaise, who rose as well. “I’ll be back soon,” he said. He turned to Remus. “Thank you. I know you’re just trying to protect me. It is appreciated.” Even if he hadn’t wanted to hear what Remus had said, it was gratifying to know that Remus was watching out for him.

Remus nodded, obviously not quite ready to speak. He moved stiffly back to his own room, and Draco knew that if there had been a door to his room, the older man would have slammed it. He definitely still wasn’t happy to let him go.

“He’ll be fine, Draco,” Harry said.

Blaise nodded. “I’ll talk with him.”

“Thank you,” Draco said, smiling at his friend.

“Take care of yourself.” He gave Draco a quick squeeze, then moved past him to Remus’s room.

Only once he was out of sight did Draco turn to Harry. “I’m ready, sire.”

“Let’s go.” Harry’s arm curled around Draco’s shoulders, and the two left the room, several pairs of eyes following them as they left.

«*»

As much as Draco had hoped to be closer to the Sultan, after five years of living in the slave quarters, it was strange to live anywhere else. Moreover, a place that was quite comfortable—decadent, even. Not that the slave quarters hadn’t been comfortable. But there was a complete lack of privacy there. Here, it was only he and Harry.

He did have to deal with Harry’s comings and goings and his visitors, though. That was a problem he hadn’t considered. He was used to not always being with Harry, after all. But the problem was, he was generally used to being alone with Harry when in his rooms. He certainly wasn’t used to seeing all of those who came to see Harry during the day when he was in his rooms. Ministers, friends, guards, wives… It shocked him how much of what should have been Harry’s free time was spent dealing with others’ issues. He knew it shouldn’t be, but knowing it and seeing it were two very different things. 

The nights were both the best of it and the worst of it. The best, because he could be close to Harry most nights, even if it was just being held. The worst when one of Harry’s wives came to visit. While he got on all right with Tonks, most of the others put him on edge. Worse, sleeping alone on his pallet was hard when he could hear the moans and cries so clearly from Harry’s bed.

Then there was Susan. She was nice enough, but as her time grew close, it was hard not to be jealous. Harry had begun to check on her almost daily–to the point that he was not able to do more than hold Draco at night, if he even returned from the women’s quarters.

When Harry wasn’t there, there seemed little to do. At least there were books to read, and Draco was allowed to spend time in the garden just outside the Sultan’s rooms, though he was not allowed to move beyond the hedge hiding it from the rest of the gardens. It was a lonely existence. But Draco was scared to ask Harry to let him go back to the slave quarters until his child was born. What if Harry took that to mean Draco no longer wanted the honour of being a Pet? So he stayed silent, and did his best to distract himself.

By the time the Sultan’s second son was born, Draco was almost used to being alone. So when Harry came into the rooms, a great grin on his face, Draco was uncertain how to respond.

“Oh, Draco… he’s beautiful. So tiny. So perfect.” Harry took his hands and drew him to his feet. “Would you like to come meet him?”

The question took Draco completely by surprise. He’d never spent much time around babies. As a child, he’d been quite sheltered, with very few playmates his own age, even. Babies were a complete mystery. “I… you want…”

“Please. Susan’s feeding him now, but once she’s done, the priest is coming, and we’ll be naming him. I’d like you to be there.”

After so many days of wondering if he had made the right choice, Draco felt his heart swell. Harry really wanted him to be part of his life. Enough to have him present during his son’s naming ceremony. “As you wish, sire,” Draco said, rising to his feet. “I would be honoured.” It was good to see Harry so happy. He smiled and gave him a kiss. “Should I change?”

Harry glanced at the robe Draco was wearing, then shook his head. “You look fine.”

“Thank you, sire. And for… including me in this.”

“How could I not, Draco?” He pulled Draco close, and kissed him. “You are as much a part of my life as they are. I want you to be there. To know him from the very start.” Harry’s eyes were sparkling with joy.

“I cannot wait to meet him, then,” Draco said, unable to keep from grinning at Harry’s joy.

Harry led the way down the hall and into the women’s quarters. Draco had never been there before, and the women all turning to watch him made him press close to Harry’s side to avoid their gazes.

Two men were standing on either side of a doorway. Ron was one of them, and he gave Draco a nod when he saw him. The other was someone Draco had never seen before. He was tall and slender, and his skin was a deep, glossy black. He’d shaved his head, and a gold earring showed in one ear. He might have been imposing, but for the slow smile he gave Harry when he saw him.

“How is she, Kingsley?”

The voice that answered was deep and rich. “She and the little one seem to be holding up well. Your cousin and Tonks are in there with her now.”

“Good. Send Horace right in when he arrives, Kingsley. Thank you.” Harry led Draco into the room, where Susan was propped up in a lavish bed, holding a tiny bundle. Tonks and a dark-haired girl Draco had not seen before were sitting to either side of her, and on seeing Draco, Tonks beamed, which made Draco feel better, but still, he tried to stay back. Harry drew him forward. “Is he sleeping?” he asked Susan.

“I think so, yes.” She smiled up at Harry, looking tired but happy. In that moment, Draco envied her. Here was the main difference between what he was to Harry, and what his wives could provide. Perhaps he should not have come.

Harry was lifting up his son, and Draco stepped back again, feeling very out of place. The problem was, he couldn’t leave without Harry. Nor did he want to intrude on this moment with his son.

The other girl—Harry’s cousin, the guard had mentioned—stood and moved to Draco’s side. “You must be Draco,” she said with a gentle smile. He nodded. “I’m Hermione. Tonks has told me about you. How much Harry adores you.”

Draco felt his cheeks heat, and he glanced at Tonks, who was helping Susan rearrange herself, then at Harry who was enraptured with his son. “Has… has she?”

“Oh, yes. I think his bringing you here would say that, even had she not.” She glanced at Harry, her expression softening. “He’s a good man. I’m glad he’s found you. He’s never let himself get so close to someone before. He needs that.”

Draco blinked at her. To be spoken to by a member of Harry’s household as though he were not only a part of it, but a vital one at that, was beyond imagining. “I… thank you.”

“No, Draco. Thank you. He’s fond of his wives. Tonks especially, but he has trouble getting close. If you have managed to somehow break through that… I know you will make him very happy.”

Before Draco could manage to speak past his astonishment, Harry turned to them, beaming. “Draco?”

Emboldened by Hermione’s words, Draco stepped closer to him. “Yes, sire?”

“Would you like to hold him?”

A glance at Susan showed she seemed to have no issue with the idea of a slave holding her son, so Draco nodded. Never mind that he had no clue how to hold an infant. “Yes, sire.” This was Harry’s son. If Harry wanted to make him part of his family, Draco would not fight it in the least.

Taking him awkwardly from Harry’s arms, Draco did his best to cradle him gently. The bundle was so tiny, but even as he looked down at Harry’s son, he could see Harry’s features in the boy. He couldn’t help but wonder if the boy would have Harry’s green eyes when they changed. He melted as the boy made sucking sounds. “He’s obviously still hungry.”

“Isn’t he wonderful, Draco?” Harry asked, his arm sliding around Draco’s waist. 

“Yes. He truly is,” he answered.

A rotund figure in priestly robes entered the room, looking around and grinning when he caught sight of Harry. “And where is the newest addition to the royal family, sire?” His voice was loud, and the baby’s face wrinkled in upset. Draco bounced him gently, then handed him back to Harry. 

“Here, Horace.”

The priest examined the boy, smiling widely. “He looks just like you, sire. Will you be naming him after yourself?”

“No. I have a much better name for him.” He stroked the baby’s cheek, his own smile soft at the expression on his son’s face.

The man beamed, apparently completely unperturbed that Harry had said no. “All right, then, Highness. Let me just get this set up.” He waved to a young man standing in the doorway with the same hair as Ron, but longer and pulled back from his face. He was almost dagger-thin, and a slight scowl on his face, particularly when he glanced toward Draco. Draco had the feeling he didn’t approve of a male slave being here in the women’s quarters. 

”Come along, Percy, get the ewer set up so that we can anoint the new prince.”

The young man bobbed his head, hurrying forward to set up a bowl on a stand at the foot of the bed, then stepped back so that the priest could reach it. Harry stepped forward with the priest, holding his son and smiling down at him while the priest chanted for several minutes. “And what have you chosen for your son’s name, sire?”

“Albus.” Harry said. Draco could hear the thickness of emotion in his voice. Everyone knew the story of how his tutor had lost his life saving Harry as a prince from the same people who had murdered his family so many years before. Obviously, Harry wanted to remember him as well.

The priest beamed at that. “Dumbledore would be proud, my boy.” He squeezed Harry’s shoulder, then whispered a few more words, sprinkling water in the baby’s face and drawing a cry from him. “Welcome to our world, Albus Potter.”

«*»

That night, Harry made love to Draco, slow and long. For once, Draco didn’t let Blaise’s whispered admonitions stop him from uttering the words. Without a thought, Harry returned them, making Draco’s heart swell even more. Afterwards, they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, whispering words of love for hours before they fell asleep.

In the morning, Harry rose and began to dress in his most formal robes. 

Draco sat up to watch him. “Shall I help you, sire?”

“Please.” Harry smiled at him. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted lately.”

“It is hardly your fault, sire. A birth is a very momentous thing. Your son is beautiful.”

Harry grinned. “He is, isn’t he? I’m to present him to the court today.” He stroked Draco’s cheek. “I wish you could be there,” he said.

“I don’t belong there, sire. Besides, I was at the far more important gathering.” He beamed to cover the rush of emotion. “I will still be here after you return him to his mother.”

Taking Draco’s hands, Harry kissed him. “Relax in the bath. I’ll have a supper brought up for us. Tonight is all yours.”

Two nights in a row with Harry all to himself was almost unheard of. “Are you certain?”

“Yes. You deserve some time alone with me after putting up with so much these past few weeks.”

“I have you. Isn’t that enough?”

Harry beamed at him, hugging him close. “You are far too good for my ego, Draco. You will turn me into a despot who believes he deserves whatever he wants.” He pressed a kiss to Draco’s lips, then pulled away, smoothing down his robe. “I should go. But I will be back shortly after noon. Luckily, they won’t expect me to stay too long. The boy still needs his mother, after all.”

“I will see you soon, my Sultan.” Draco kissed him once more. “Tonight.”

After Harry left, Draco did as Harry had suggested and drew himself a bath, sinking into the warm water, and sighing happily. He sat in the tub perhaps a little too long, nearly on the verge of falling asleep there. He shook himself, got out of the tub and drained it, then dried himself off and crawled into Harry’s bed, his hair still damp about his face, and fell fast asleep.

He woke to a hand on his shoulder, and looked up with a smile to see Harry sitting next to him. He stretched languidly before sitting up. “How did Albus’s reception by the nobles go?”

“They were all extremely charmed, of course. I think he will be very helpful to James when he is on the throne. Everyone seems to adore him.”

“How can they not?” Draco asked with a grin. “He’s yours.” He leaned in and kissed Harry. “I am glad that it went well.”

“As am I. Even more so to be back here with you, and no further draws on my time until noon tomorrow. So… tell me what you would like, my sweet boy?” Even as he spoke, Harry’s hand was sliding down Draco’s side, and he cupped his arse, drawing him closer.

“Mmm…” Draco pressed against him, his arms looping around Harry’s neck. “Make love to me, Harry?”

There was a pause in which Draco held his breath. He’d never asked in such a way before. What if it was too much? What if it made Harry push him away? 

Harry didn’t. Instead, he drew him close, smiling. “Gladly.” He drew Draco into another kiss, and pushed him back onto the bed, removing his robe as they kissed. Draco did his best to help, his hands ending up touching more flesh than cloth as the clothing was pushed out of the way. Once he was free, Harry groaned. “You shouldn’t be able to affect me like this, you know.” He nipped down Draco’s neck.

“O-oh? Why not?”

Harry chuckled, then sucked at a nipple, his hands stroking Draco’s sides. “Wouldn’t do to give you too much power over me.”

It was like having a bucket of cold water thrown at him. Draco froze mid-writhe. “I would never…”

“Shh…” Harry slid up and kissed him. “I know.” He brushed a few stray wisps of hair from his face. “That’s why you’re here, Draco. Because I trust you.”

“Why?” Draco breathed, not quite believing Harry’s words.

Harry shook his head. “To be honest? I don’t know. I just… do.”

Scared to question his good luck at having won Harry’s heart, however he had managed it, Draco kissed him. His hands curled around Harry’s shoulders, keeping him close, not sure if he ever wanted to let go of him again. To go from light to darkness, to be rescued by this man. Could life ever be better? “I love you, Harry. I am yours. Always. For as long as you wish to keep me.”

Harry’s arms tightened around him. “I love you, too, Draco. When I started this… I never expected to care so deeply for you.”

It was almost too much, and Draco had to kiss him again to stop the words, clinging to him tightly. “God…”

Harry pulled back, his eyes dark with emotion. “I won’t ever let you go, Draco. Not ever.”

“Good.” Draco called back some of his long-lost nobility, raising his chin. “I expect to be pampered every day and lavished with gifts.” He managed a smirk before pulling Harry into another kiss. “Or just to see your face every day,” he said.

Smiling, Harry hugged him close. “Done. Perhaps also making certain you are fed? Have you eaten at all? The tray from this morning looks untouched.”

Draco flushed. “I fell asleep.”

“Perhaps we should eat first, then?”

As if in answer, Draco’s stomach growled, and the two men laughed. “All right. So long as you hold up your promise to make love to me after.”

“Gladly,” Harry said with a grin, kissing him.

«*»

“Harry, honestly. What do you have against her? Minerva is only asking for something she and many other women have earned fair and square.”

“Hermione, you know it’s not that simple.”

Draco had been trying to avoid listening to Harry speaking with his cousin, but their voices had been getting louder for some time. He could see that Harry agreed with her. To a point. But to suddenly give all women the same rights as men would be to undo the fabric of their country, which still had a good way to go to heal from the wounds of the war his father and others had caused.

“It is simple. You’re the Sultan! If you wanted…”

“They barely listen to me now, Hermione! Most of them still see me as a child!”

“They will as long as you cater to their every whim. Take a stand. Make a choice, Harry. Show them that you have ideas and ways of taking us into a new era.”

Draco sighed, putting his book aside, moving to Harry’s side and squeezing his shoulder gently. He would not speak in front of Hermione unless given express permission or if she spoke to him directly, but that did not mean that he was about to let Harry deal with this frustration alone.

Hermione glanced at him, then back to Harry, her expression softening when she saw the deep lines of worry there. “I know it’s hard, Harry. But you’ve told me yourself she was a great help during the war. You’ve told me that I helped, too. Even Tonks…”

“Enough!” Draco shied back as Harry jumped to his feet. “I know you care about this subject passionately, but… I can’t.” His anger softened to pain, his voice lowering. “I’m sorry.”

“Harry…”

He shook his head. “Not now. Give me time?”

She sighed, hanging her head. “Fine. But I won’t let you forget it, either.”

“I didn’t ask you here to talk about this, you know.”

Hermione huffed. “Oh? Why? Too serious for a ‘girl of my status’ to talk about?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “No. You know I respect your opinions, Hermione. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have bothered calling you here today.”

“Oh?” This time when she said it, there was curiosity in her tone, and Draco thought there might have been a hint of worry as well. “What was it, then?”

“Some of my advisors were suggesting a wedding might improve the mood.”

Hermione blinked. “And?”

“And… I think maybe it’s time.”

“No. Harry. You promised me that I could choose. Please don’t do this…”

Harry looked sad at her words. “I did, yes. Are you telling me there’s no one you’re interested in? Not at all?”

Her cheeks went pink. Her voice was soft when she finally answered. “Anyone? Even if they’re not… suitable?”

The expression on Harry’s face made Draco wonder if he didn’t have plans for Ron that Ron knew nothing about. “Are you so certain they’re not, Hermione?”

“Harry…”

“Say the word, Hermione. Let me do this for you both. Please?”

She looked stunned. “I… but… I…”

“You are fond of him, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “But he’s just a guard.”

“Not for long. You and I both know he’s earned far more. Say the word, and you can have your own palace. Will you let me?”

She looked away, then stood up. “He wouldn’t accept it, Harry. You know that.”

“He would from his Sultan if it was part and parcel of his new title.”

Frowning, she looked back at him. “Title?”

Harry nodded. “I’ve been waiting for one of my Ministers to retire. He’s got his own inherited wealth and castle he’ll be leaving for at the end of the year. But it would be good if he could have a chance to train Ron before he left.”

“Minister?” Hermione braced herself against his desk, looking dizzy. “You… want to make a commoner’s son one of your Ministers?”

“No. I want to make one of my best friends one of my Ministers. I know I can trust him. And with you at his side, I know he will have all the help he needs to guide me correctly. Please say yes, Hermione.”

“Does he know yet?” she asked.

Harry shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you first. I’d rather not give him one of my ‘extras.’ That would only blow up in both of our faces.” He smirked, making it quite obvious the suggestion was only a joke, though Draco knew there was a thread of seriousness underlying it. 

“May I think about it first?”

“Of course, Hermione. You know I only want you to be happy, right?”

“Yes. I know, Harry. I just wish…”

“I know, Hermione. If I could allow this to happen any other way, I would. I hate being so heavy-handed, but… maybe it will work out for the best?”

Draco slid his arm around Harry’s shoulders, wanting to show him some support. It was obvious that he wasn’t thrilled. It really was too bad. It seemed as though Ron and Hermione cared for each other, and Draco thought they would make a good couple. If Harry was able to help them, surely that couldn’t be a bad thing?

“I should get back. I promised to help Susan tonight. I’ll… let you know. And Harry? Thank you. I know if my fate were in anyone else’s hands…” She huffed. “It means a lot to me that you’d ask. Never mind doing this for Ron.”

“I’d do no less for anyone in my household, Hermione. You know that.”

“Yes. I do.” She kissed his cheek, turning and heading to the door where the guard was waiting to lead her back to the womens’ quarters. The door closed behind them, leaving silence behind. Now that they were alone, Draco knelt at Harry’s feet and looked up at him. Harry stroked fingers through his hair and sighed. “I hoped she would be more pleased than that,” he said.

“She should be gratified that you would allow her the man she wants, despite his birth,” Draco said, annoyed the girl had so offended Harry.

“You heard her, Draco. She wants full rights. Like a man. Nothing less will truly please her.” He sighed again, shaking his head. “I do see her point. But… I can’t. Not now. Not so much. My father was almost overthrown for choosing and favoring my mother over any other. I can’t afford to make that sort of gaffe. Not yet, anyway. I need more years under my belt. And people who trust me implicitly, who won’t question my every choice.”

“What you need,” Draco said, shifting to his heels, “is to forget all this for a while. I have the perfect idea. If you would like?”

Harry chuckled. “Not sure if I’m up to much, Draco.”

Draco laughed. “It is good that you will have to do little more than relax and watch, isn’t it?”

Intrigued, Harry sat forward. “Oh? What are you suggesting, Pet?” 

“Let me dance for you, sire?” 

“Oh.” Harry’s surprise at the suggestion slowly turned to a pleased smile. “I think I’d like that. But… won’t you need music?”

Draco grinned. “I can make my own, but if you would like some, I’m sure we could send for a musician…”

Harry shook his head, returning his grin. “No. I think your music will be just enough.”

“I’m glad you agree,” Draco said with a purr. He stood, then helped the Sultan to his feet. “Now, let’s get you comfortable, and I’ll go change, and then…” He gave Harry a kiss, then led him to the bed. 

Harry settled on the bed, but before Draco could pull back to go to his room and change, he tugged Draco down against him and kissed him. It took Draco a few minutes to pull away, and he grinned, his cheeks warm at the attention. “I’ll be right back, sire,” he said, his voice low and husky from the kiss.

He hurried to his little room and pulled on all the jangling baubles he owned, particularly those threaded with bells, taking off his vest and draping his body with scarves, tucking them into the waist of his trousers so that the silken, gauzy material floated around him as he moved.

Dressed, he moved back into the room, jangling as he moved toward Harry where he lay reclined on the cushions they often used to relax together. Harry licked his lips at the sight. “Gorgeous.”

“My Sultan only deserves the best,” Draco murmured, his voice still low with lust from what he was about to do for Harry.

“Yes,” Harry said with a smirk. “So. Are you going to dance for me, Pet? Or just pose?”

Smirking, Draco did strike a pose at that. He’d always loved dancing, and he’d been asked many times over the last few years to do just that, so he’d learned how to use these ornaments and silks to his advantage. Particularly when it meant the difference between having to sleep with someone he found less than pleasing or not. But now, he wanted to use the dance only to seduce, so he would do just that. 

Stomping his foot on the floor to set some of the bells jingling, he spun around, then began to sway his body in a way that he knew would entice. His body curved and arched, watching Harry’s expression darken into lust as he moved. One by one, the pieces of silk fell away until all Draco wore was the low-set, loose silk trousers that showed almost as much as they concealed, and the shimmer and jingle of his jewelry.

The last strip of silk was tossed toward Harry, who caught it and began to pull him close. “Very wicked boy,” he purred. “Should turn you over my knee, for keeping such a talent from your rightful master.”

“I was saving it for a special occasion, sire,” Draco purred. “Did I please you?” He wasn’t sure if he was panting from the dancing or from reaction to Harry’s words.

“Very much so.” Harry tugged him even closer and kissed him, pulling him onto his lap. “You are delicious, Draco.” His hand stroked lightly down Draco’s sweat-slicked back, then cupped his arse. “I meant what I said. Are you going to be a good boy and lay across my lap?”

Swallowing thickly, Draco nodded, shifting so that he was spread out across Harry’s lap. Before Harry could do anything, though, he pushed up on his knees so he could pull down his trousers, then settled against Harry’s legs. “All yours, sire.”

Apparently it was the right move, for Harry groaned. His hand stroked over the soft flesh for a moment, then smacked down hard once.

Draco gasped and closed his eyes. “Oh!”

“Mmm… best arse for this. Made for it.” Even as he spoke, the blows continued. It wasn’t long before Draco was crying out with each smack, arching into them. Why had he been so scared of this? It felt amazing.

“Oh… ohgod… sire… I’m… ah! Oh… I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you will be, sweet boy.” Harry’s hand rubbed over Draco’s stinging arse. “Get up. Onto the bed. Kneel against the edge.”

Draco bit back a moan and nodded. “Yes, sire. He stumbled to his feet, not having to look back to know that Harry was following close behind. He’d barely perched on the edge of the bed when Harry yanked down his trousers. Fingers sought out Draco’s entrance, and he couldn’t hold back the cry at the touch. “Ah! Yes. Please!”

Harry didn’t make him wait. The fingers pushed inside him, stretching him quicker than usual, but Draco didn’t mind. He needed this as badly as Harry. After only a moment, they were gone, and Harry was inside him, and Draco thrust back against him, wailing at the feeling of Harry as he moved inside him, rocking his hips back into each thrust.

Draping himself over Draco’s back, Harry began to grind into him, nipping and sucking at his neck, his fingers curling around Draco’s shaft, stroking him. “Tell me you want it. This. To be spanked and fingered and fucked like this,” Harry whispered.

“Oh, god, yes… Need you… fucking me… spanking me… touching me… ohgodyes… please, sire!”

“Good boy,” Harry purred, thrusting hard into him, brushing over his prostate. 

With a sharp, wordless cry, Draco was coming, grinding hard into Harry’s hand. 

Harry thrust into him through his climax, then thrust a few times more before coming with a groan as well. “Draco…”

The two collapsed to the bed, still tangled in each other and the remains of their clothes.

Once the two men recovered, Harry summoned a meal for them, and Draco settled on the edge of the bed, feeding Harry, taking bites for himself between.

“Draco, I am perfectly capable…”

“I know, sire. I just enjoy spoiling you,” he said.

“I’m the one who should be spoiling you.” Harry pulled him into his arms. “Speaking of which… I got a letter today.”

“Oh?” Draco picked up another vegetable roll and held it up to Harry’s lips.

Harry chuckled, then took a bite, chewing and swallowing before continuing. “Yes. From my old adviser?”

Suddenly, Harry had Draco’s undivided attention. “Oh? And… what did he have to say?”

“That he would refuse my invitation, but he knew I would just come there and drag him out of his comfortable retirement if he did.” Harry snickered. “He’s always had a sharp temper.”

The statement rang something in the back of Draco’s memory, but he wasn’t sure what. Likely something Blaise had told him about the man he’d fallen for. “So… he’ll come?”

Harry nodded, smiling. “He’ll be here within the month. Depending on how long tying up his own affairs temporarily takes him. Likely that means the very end of the month, though.”

“Not long, then?” Draco felt a little breathless at the prospect. “May I be there? When he arrives, I mean.”

“I thought you might ask that, Pet. I actually had a thought about that. Perhaps you and Blaise could wear complementary outfits and sit on either side of my throne? That way he will have a good reason to be there already, and I will be able to see from their reactions whether this is a good idea or not.”

“I think that is an excellent idea, sire.” Draco kissed him. “You are amazing. I cannot think of another who would work to make those around him as happy as you do. Ron, Hermione, me…” He flushed and looked down. “You are a very great man.”

“A good man. Surrounded by good people who deserve to be as happy as I am.” He hugged Draco close, and Draco felt his throat close at the implication.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Harry gently tipped up his chin. “I love you, Draco. If I could do anything to make you happier, I would. So long as I never lost you.”

“How could I ever possibly be happier if I were not here? You are more than I could ever deserve.”

Harry opened his mouth, likely to argue, but Draco kissed him, snuggling against him. “I am so glad to be yours. I will never regret the rest, for because of it, I am here with you, rather than your enemy.”

“I could never have hated you, Draco. Being your enemy…” Harry searched for the words for a time, but finally shook his head. “I just can’t even imagine it.”

“I know. But it could have happened.” Draco pushed back the memory of just how much he’d idolized his father and wanted to be like him. “I’m just glad that it did not.” He kissed Harry again, then pulled back to get the goblet of wine for Harry to sip from. “Perhaps we should move on to more pleasant topics?”

Harry smiled. “Oh? Like what?”

“Mmm… how Blaise and I should make you look good? How do you think of having two new outfits made just for that day?”

Shaking his head, Harry laughed. “I should have guessed. Not so different from some of my wives with that acquisitiveness of yours, Pet. Perhaps you need another punishment to remind you of your place?”

Draco squirmed, his arse tingling still from the memory of the spanking earlier. “You don’t have to, sire. I just wanted us to represent you to the best of our ability.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure. Especially if it means you get a new outfit out of it?”

Feeling his cheeks heat, Draco looked away and shrugged. “My sole purpose is to please you, sire. Whatever that might take.”

“And if it pleases me to spank you once more?” Harry asked in a murmur.

Draco squirmed. “Then I suppose you should do so, sire.”

“Such an agreeable pet.” Harry kissed him. “I will send the tailor here so you can talk to him about your ideas tomorrow. All right?”

Surprised, Draco looked up at him and grinned. “Thank you, sire.”

Harry smirked. “Now be a good boy and let me at that gorgeous arse of yours again.”

Draco flushed again, but complied, laying across Harry’s lap. It didn’t take much for the spanking to hurt this time, given how close in time it was to the previous one. When Harry’d decided he’d spanked him enough, he slid back and spread his legs. “Suck me, Pet,” he purred.

Eagerly, Draco settled between his legs and took Harry in his hand, licking at the head of his cock. Harry’s hand stroked over his hair as he licked, encouraging him to take more, so he opened his mouth, closing it around the crown and sucked, smirking at the groan that pulled from Harry, opening his mouth to take him further in.

This was something Draco quite excelled at. It was the best way to deal with someone you didn’t want to actually sleep with. Drain them, and they often were unable to get aroused again.

Now, Draco pulled out all the stops, taking him deep, finally letting Harry slide down his throat. Perhaps at some point, he’d have to find out what it would feel like to be at Harry’s mercies, having him fuck his mouth like this. But for now he sucked harder, swallowing around him once more, encouraging him to come, greedily licking him clean before sliding up his body and kissing him. His own arousal could wait until Harry was able to do more. For the moment, he was content just to lie in his arms.


	5. A Visitor and a Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry make plans, and Harry's old adviser arrives.

A few days later, two bolts of cloth in his arms, Draco went back to the slave quarters. He had visited a few times in the past month, but the visits had been short, and now, knowing that Blaise would likely be gone by the end of the month, Draco hoped to spend more time with him beforehand. Hopefully he could do so without arousing Blaise’s suspicions. 

Finding Blaise turned out to be difficult, though. It seemed that he’d been sent out to serve at a meeting, and would not be back until later, so Draco spent time talking with some of the others—those whom he had always gotten on with to some degree, at least. 

Colin, the current youngest in the slave quarters, complained of mistreatment by a few guards that Draco knew enjoyed giving the slaves a hard time. It was hardly an unusual complaint against them. However, he was alarmed when Colin said that one of his most recent tasks had been no more than an excuse for one of them to use him out of the Head Slave’s sight. “Why didn’t you tell Remus?”

“And admit that I let him? I’d been in more trouble than he was, Draco, you know that. Besides… I don’t want to cause Remus trouble. It’s not as though he can order the guards around.”

“No, but he can talk to Harry…” He frowned, then corrected himself. “The sultan. And the sultan can deal with it.”

“But so can you. You spend all your time with him now… surely you could speak to him about it?”

“I’ll try,” Draco agreed, wondering whether Harry would be willing to take this in hand. Draco knew that he was kind, but surely this wasn’t a big enough issue for him to deal with? After all, like it or not, this was what they were there for—to be used by those in the palace who wished to.

Then there were Cassius’s comments. Like Draco, he was from a family who had fought against Harry during the war, and had found himself here. But unlike Draco, his family name, Vasey, was well known to the other slaves, and they often gave him the worst tasks because of it unless Remus intervened. Draco told him he’d ask Harry to talk to Remus about it, but privately he wondered if he’d be able to truly change anything. 

There were others as well, all wanting his help with some problem or other, most minor in comparison, but some comments and concerns made him worry, and he made a mental note to talk with Harry about it when they were alone together once more. Had things always been this bad, or had he just not noticed before because he was too wrapped up in his own obsessions with Harry?

By the time Blaise returned, Draco was beginning to wonder if he were going to have to wait for another day to speak with him about the outfits, so he was very glad to see him when he walked through the door.

“Draco? What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” he said with a smile.

“I’m sorry. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have volunteered today.” Blaise gathered himself, smiling back and hugging him close. He stepped away, looking Draco up and down. “You seem good.”

“Happiness will do that to a person.” 

Blaise frowned, turning away. “I suppose. Was there a specific reason for your visit? I was thinking a bath might be nice.”

“I have to get back to the Sultan shortly, but maybe we could talk a little before I go back? I have a request.”

“A request?” Blaise raised an eyebrow. “What sort of request? I thought you had everything you wanted.”

“It’s for the Sultan. There’s a noble coming to the palace sometime soon. Harry wanted to show off for him.” He couldn’t help but flush at the lie, but it was better than saying who.

“So you thought of me? What? He can’t use you?” Blaise looked as though he’d bitten into an unripe quince. 

“He was thinking a matched pair.” Draco nodded to the cloth he’d brought to show Blaise. “I was thinking… I could dress in maroon, and you in gold, with gold stitching on my outfit, and maroon on yours. So that we match. Mirrored images.”

Blaise’s scowl deepened. “Why me?” He raised his chin. “Anyone else…”

“Please, Blaise, we complement each other already. Skin… hair… eyes…"

“This is very important to you, I suppose?” Blaise asked with a sigh.

Draco nodded. “Harry would be pleased as well. Please say that you will?”

Blaise glanced from Draco to the pile of silks, then back to Draco. “I suppose. Just don’t ask me to be thrilled about it. After all, I’m not the one who will be sleeping with the Sultan that night, so guess who will be chosen to be the bedmate of whomever this is?”

Draco hoped that Blaise would assume his flush was due to consternation rather than the secret that leapt to his tongue. He pushed it down, shaking his head. “If you’d like, I can talk to the Sultan…” Never mind that he hoped that Blaise would be doing precisely that. That night, and for the rest of days—if things went well.

“No. It’s who I am. I’m used to it.”

Draco winced. Even if he had been certain of the outcome, having Blaise believe that he was going to be used by a stranger for even a few days felt wrong. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s all right. I’m flattered you thought of me.” Draco could hear the unspoken words – “Now that you’re the Sultan’s favorite, you could so easily forget me.”

“I will always, Blaise. Without you… I would never have made it through my first days here. Let alone my first year. Nothing will ever change our friendship.”

“I’m glad you think of me so fondly.”

Draco hugged him. “Of course I do. And you know, if I can ever do anything…”

“No. I am a slave. It is not such a bad existence here. He is a good master.”

“He is,” Draco agreed softly. He hugged Blaise again. “Still, the offer stands. Just remember that.” He sighed. “I should get back. I will see you soon. All right?”

Blaise nodded. “Take care, Draco.”

Draco picked up the silk and moved to the door where Ron was waiting for him. Their trip back to the Sultan’s quarters was quiet, and when he arrived, he found Kingsley there speaking quietly with Harry. “In the Southlands. We think he’s the major dealer there…” He stopped when Draco approached and sat back.

Harry smiled at Draco. “Did you have a good visit?” 

“Quite, actually. He wasn’t there the entire time, but we talked, and he agreed. I’ll have the outfits started tomorrow.” He smiled at Harry, then nodded at the head of the palace guard. He’d only seen Kingsley one other time since Albus’s birth, but he was a personable man. He was also admirable in the fact that he managed to keep abreast of everything that happened in the palace by actually taking guard duties himself when the occasion warranted. He seemed to know more of what was going on in the palace than any one man could.

“I’ll just go put these away. Should I stay, or…?” He glanced from Kingsley back to Harry.

“No, we should be done shortly.” Harry pulled Draco close and kissed him softly. “Then we can have supper in the garden.”

“All right.” Draco nodded to Kingsley, only half-listening as he moved away, their voices soft when they spoke once more. He heard mention of prisoners, and meetings, then he was out of earshot, and when he returned, Kingsley was gone. He settled on Harry’s lap. “Should I send for a meal, or is it already on the way?”

Harry rolled the scrolls on his desk, closing his arms around Draco’s waist. “I was thinking we could do something else first. Unless my boy had any objections?” He smirked, and Draco shivered pleasantly. 

“Never, sire. I am yours to command.”

Harry grinned, then lifted Draco in his arms and moved toward the bed. “Good.”

After lovemaking, a slave brought a tray from the kitchens. They’d eaten it out on the patio, stretched out on the cushions under the stars. It was a warm night, scented by the early summer flowers. It was simply far too nice a night to go in, even after they’d finished. Draco was content to lie there in Harry’s arms for as long as he would let him. 

“I’m glad things went well with Blaise. One less thing to worry about, at least.”

That surprised Draco, and he turned to meet Harry’s eyes. “You think your former adviser will cause problems?”

“No, I think he’ll accept the gift of Blaise, if grudgingly.” He sighed. “The problems will come from other quarters, I’m sure. I never realized just how busy I’d be as Sultan when I fought to keep my father’s adviser from taking over…”

Draco’s arms tightened around him. “It was a bad day? Would you like to talk about it?”

“Just more of the same, really. People trying to get away with things.” He paused a moment, then gazed at Draco. “Kingsley is still looking for your parents.”

The mention of them made Draco’s stomach drop. “If… if you can’t find them, sire, I do understand. It is hardly your fault that they were taken.” That fault lay firmly on his own father’s shoulders, and no one else’s.

“I know. We’ve barely scratched the surface, though. Kingsley’s got some good people out there searching. If we can, we’ll find them. Okay?”

Draco kissed him, overwhelmed at how much effort Harry was going to on his behalf. “Thank you, sire.”

“I promised you I would, and I will. If it is at all possible.”

“Still, you shouldn’t exhaust yourself over it.”

“Oh, that wasn’t the big problem today, Draco. One of the ‘contrite’ principalities sent a messenger today. They want to exchange prisoners.” Harry was silent, frowning for a moment, obviously lost in worries about the offer. “Still… if there’s any chance they do truly have some of our men… we have to try.”

“Do you think it likely they still have any? I mean, it’s been years.”

“We still have a few of theirs. Though I can’t say they are as civilized as we.” Harry scowled. “Do you remember the Principality of Betestrange from when you were a boy?”

Draco nodded slowly. He’d never liked their visits, though the Crown Princess of the principality was his aunt. “I do. I can see why you might not believe they were trustworthy.” Let alone the thought of what they might do to prisoners in their ‘care.’ “What will you do?”

“Well, their main purpose seems to be negotiating Princess Bella’s release, but she died. Only a month after we caught her in battle.” 

The realization that his aunt Bella probably hadn’t died in a pleasant way, least of all if it had been during the war, was a shock. Then there was how her husband and his brother would react. “Dead? They won’t like that. What will you do?” 

Harry sighed. “I don’t know. Kingsley tells me it’s better not to tell them that straight out.”

“I’d agree with him there. I don’t know if you ever met the brothers, but… they’re not entirely there. Any excuse would be a good one for them to attack you once more.”

“I know. We can’t handle that. It’s far too soon. It would tear the country apart. So I’m at a loss.”

Draco nodded, shifting to massage Harry’s shoulders, smiling when he let his head fall forward. He kissed the nape of his neck, then nuzzled him as he worked gently on his shoulders. “I’m sure you and your advisers will come up with something, sire. Perhaps you could have them sign some sort of binding contract so that they will have to abide, or lose their land?” 

“Perhaps. It would have to be worded very carefully.” Harry thought about it for a moment, then turned to kiss Draco, smiling when he pulled back. “You are amazing, Draco. That might actually work. Thank you.”

“Anything to help you, sire,” Draco said with a return smile. “Perhaps when you make the exchange, you could send Ron? That way he can prove his mettle to himself, and you will have good reason to promote him. Such an important assignment…” 

Harry laughed, then kissed him again. “Did I say amazing? I meant brilliant. How did I ever manage without you?”

“You slept with women,” Draco said with a snicker.

Harry smirked. “I still do, actually.”

Draco flushed at that, and dropped his gaze. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Harry lifted his chin. “Draco… it’s all right. If I could choose only one…” He swallowed, stroking Draco’s cheek. “You are so precious to me.”

“Thank you, sire,” Draco said softly, leaning into the touch. “That means everything to me. I don’t mind being your boy, so long as I can be here with you.”

“Of course you can, Draco. I couldn’t send you away now if it meant the fall of my country.”

“God, don’t say that. No one is worth that. Not even me.”

Harry hugged him tight. “I know. I just… You are so important to me. I want you to know just how much.”

“I do,” Draco said softly. “Every time you look at me. Or touch me. The fact that I am here with you, and not one of your wives… It all means so much to me. Thank you.”

“How can I not love you, Draco?” Harry pulled him into a kiss, stroking Draco’s back. “I’d be lost without you.”

“No. You would be just fine. Tonks… your cousin… Kingsley… They would all take care of you.”

“But no one could love me. Not the way you do, Draco. To me, that is the most precious thing of all.”

«*»

The next few weeks were filled with fittings and late nights with the Sultan—when he was not with one of his wives. Draco began to make a point of asking to stay in the slave quarters with Blaise when that happened, so as to get more time with his friend, now that he knew that time was limited.

When he returned one morning after one of Harry’s visits with one of his wives, the girl was still laying in bed, eating a pear. She looked at Draco, then beamed at him and sat up. “Hullo. You’re Draco, aren’t you? Hermione has told me of you.” Her long blond hair was tousled, and her eyes were bright. It was hard for Draco not to feel a pang of jealousy, knowing what she had probably been doing with Harry the night before—possibly even this morning.

“Yes,” he said, his voice sharper than it probably should have been. Harry was nowhere to be seen, so he was about to excuse himself when the girl slipped from the sheets, bare of even the slightest bit of clothing. Draco flushed and glanced away. He’d never really seen a naked woman before. It was disconcerting. Especially how blithe she seemed to be about it.

Luna seemed unaffected by his coolness. “I can see why he likes you. He’s very fond of blonds.”

Draco glanced up, trying not to notice anything but her face. “O-oh?”

“Mmm hmm. There are three of us in the harem. Susan is his favorite, though. I cannot blame him for that. Albus is adorable. Someday I hope to be able to give him a son, too.”

Feeling his flush deepen at the girl’s words, Draco shrugged. “I am sure he will oblige you, then. If you’ll excuse me…” He tried to move past her, but she caught his arm.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. The others say I’m a bit… odd. I just wanted to meet the man who has captured our Sultan’s heart.”

Draco glanced at her horrified, and uncertain what to say. Unfortunately, that meant the first thing to come to mind ended up snappish. “Perhaps, if you had not wanted to offend, you might have put on some clothing before I arrived. Or at least had the decency to cover yourself when I entered.”

She beamed at him, seeming unaffected by his rudeness. “Oh! I hadn’t even thought. I’ll just grab a robe.” She turned away to pull on a robe at the foot of the bed. “I don’t mind being naked. I forget, sometimes, that others have issues with it.”

Scowling, Draco crossed his arms as though to shield himself from her. “So have you seen enough of me, yet?” he asked.

Her laugh was light and free. “Of course not, silly. I hope we can become friends. I mean, we will have to share him, after all…”

The thought didn’t appeal at all, and Draco breathed a sigh of relief when Harry stepped out of the bathroom. “Oh! Draco. I wasn’t expecting you quite yet.”

It was hard not to scowl at him for that, so Draco avoided his eyes, shrugging. “Blaise had an early assignment.”

“I’m sorry. Did you have a nice visit, at least?”

“Hmm.” Draco nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

Harry was quiet for a moment, and Draco could feel his eyes on him, but stepped towards the girl instead. “We should get you back to the Harem, Luna. I’ll see you soon, all right?”

Her light laugh tinkled through the room once more, making Draco even more uncomfortable. “Of course, Harry. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable, Draco.”

Draco shrugged. He didn’t mind Tonks. She seemed… indulgent. Nor did he mind Harry’s other wives ignoring him more than not. But this Luna put him on edge. He watched as she stood on tiptoe to give Harry a kiss, afterwords moving to the door where Ron was waiting to take her back to the Harem.

When she was gone, Harry turned back to him. “Are you okay, Draco?”

What could he say that wouldn’t make Harry feel worse? He shrugged once more, jumping slightly when Harry put his arms around him. “She’s harmless. Sweet.”

“I guess.”

“I’m sorry if it gave you a start to meet her that way…"

“Not your fault. Like you said, you weren’t expecting me yet.”

“No. But it obviously unsettled you.” He pulled Draco’s chin up. “Will you be okay?”

Draco nodded. “Just need to relax a bit.”

“All right.” Harry kissed him, just a soft kiss, but it was enough to help Draco relax a little.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I surprised you. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“You are always welcome. I just want you to be comfortable, whatever happens.”

Draco made a face. “Yes, well…” The idea of accidentally walking in on Harry making love to one of his wives was definitely not appealing. “For my own sake, then.”

Stroking Draco’s cheek, Harry nodded. “Tell you what? I’ll make it up to you tonight. In fact, if I didn’t have a meeting shortly, I’d spend the day with you.”

“It’s all right. I have the last fitting today. I think the outfits are ready for whenever your friend shows.”

“He’s not my friend, believe me,” Harry said with a soft laugh. “Still, I’m glad. It will be interesting to see how they react to one another. I know you’ll look fabulous,” he added, grinning, kissing Draco once more.

“Has he sent any further word?” 

“No. The month only has another two weeks, though, so I imagine we’ll be seeing him soon.”

“We’ll be ready, then.” He gave Harry a squeeze. “I’ll just go take a bath and order you a big supper once I’ve finished. Or will you be back by lunch?”

“Halfway through the afternoon, I’d say. More negotiations.”

Draco nodded. “Going well, I hope?”

“They want all sorts of concessions. We’ll see if we can’t come up with some sort of understanding.” He gave Draco a last squeeze, then began to dress. “I only hope I don’t have to fight the urge to lop off their ambassador’s head. Slimy little man.” He gave a shudder.

“One of the brothers?”

“No. He’s a traitor who helped them out early on. Some say he was involved in helping kill my parents, but we have no proof.”

“Crouch?” Draco remembered the young man who had visited a few times with his aunt and uncle.

Harry scowled. “Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. He always gave me the chills.”

“Not as bad as Riddle, but even so…"

Draco nodded, helping Harry pull on his robes of state. “Well, if he annoys you too much, just remind him how easy it would be to dig up some proof of his treachery, and just how pleased you would be to have someone to finally convict in your parents’ murder.” The smile Draco gave him then was dark with meaning.

“Might have to.” Harry kissed him. “Have a good day. I’ll be back as soon as I can get away.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Draco said.

«*»

Harry’s former adviser finally appeared at the end of the week. However, the reception for him went quite differently than either Draco or Harry was expecting. 

Kingsley had been asked to keep Harry apprised of when the man was approaching so that they would have time to prepare the reception they’d planned. By the time the man entered Harry’s throne room, Draco and Blaise were decked out in their new outfits, and settled on either side of Harry’s throne at his feet.

Even as he entered, Draco saw his eyes move first to Blaise, and caught the appreciative leer that flashed across his face. Then he turned his face, and Draco’s heart flipped over as he recognized the man. Severus Snape. He felt all the blood drain from his face.

Snape stopped dead in his tracks, and Draco saw astonishment spread across his face. “Draco?” he asked incredulously.

Harry stood, surprised at the reaction. “Severus?”

Snape glanced from Harry to Draco, then back again. “Perhaps this should be discussed somewhere more private?”

Draco saw Blaise’s horrified look. This wasn’t how he’d wanted this to go. If he’d known… He turned to Harry to appeal to him, but Harry just seemed confused. 

“What should? Severus, do you know Draco?”

Snape scowled. “A more private space would be far better to discuss this, sire.”

Harry nodded, then glanced at Kingsley, who opened a door leading to a small room off the side of the throne room. “This way, then, Severus.” He put his arm around Draco’s waist, then held out a hand for Blaise as well.

Blaise glanced between Draco and Harry, and then to Snape before taking the hand and pressing against Harry’s side, looking defiantly at Snape.

Snape’s scowl grew. “Getting more decadent than your father.”

“Thought you wanted privacy to talk, Severus,” Harry said blithely. He led the way into the room Kingsley’d opened before Snape could respond.

Draco glanced over his shoulder. Snape. Here. One of Harry’s former advisers? Draco knew Snape had been friends with his father. Did Harry know? Had Snape been a spy? If so, for which side? 

He caught Blaise glancing back at the man also, and at the worry on his face. Perhaps this had been a bad idea?

As soon as the four of them entered the room, Kingsley stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Draco was glad that Harry would have someone there to protect him—just in case. He was terrified of what might happen now. What if Snape had been a traitor? What if he insisted on taking Draco home with him instead of Blaise? Draco was almost scared to let go of Harry. The thought of losing what they had was too much to contemplate.

“So, _Sire_ …" Snape’s tone was deeply sardonic. “Would you care to tell me how you ended up with the only son of one of your greatest enemies as your slave? Or do I want to know?”

Harry’s chin rose at the accusation. “I had no idea who he was when he first came to me, and Remus assures me he was brought to the palace by one of our usual procurers. I would never abuse my power that way, and you know it.”

“Do I? And yet he is here.”

Draco’s head was spinning at the accusation. “He didn’t do this! Don’t you ever…” He squeezed his eyes closed, his training as a slave clashing with his need to defend Harry from Snape. “It wasn’t his fault father was an idiot.”

Harry and Snape both stared at Draco, shocked at the outburst. Blaise looked even more horrified than before. 

“I… suppose.” Snape took a deep breath. “He is not… forcing himself upon you?”

Draco’s chin rose, meeting Snape’s cool black eyes. “No force needed. He knows how I feel.”

A black brow rose. “How is that, Draco?”

“I love him,” Draco answered, his voice soft. He could hear Blaise’s sigh, and turned to him. “And he loves me back.” It wasn’t something he would normally have said in mixed company, but he felt the need to defend himself.

“Yes. I do.” Harry’s hand squeezed Draco’s shoulder.

Blaise’s eyes went wide at the admission. “You do? But you’re the Sultan. He’s just…”

“No one is just anything. Not when feelings are involved. Everyone has feelings. No matter how deep they hide them.” Harry turned from Blaise to Snape. “Now are you done with your accusations, Severus?”

Snape looked even more curious at that. “Was part of that saccharine speech for me? And who would I have feelings for, little prince?”

“I haven’t been Prince in more than five years, Severus, and you know it. I simply heard from a few sources that you might want a companion, and that Blaise was noticed in your company a few times before your retirement.”

Draco saw a look of betrayal cross Blaise’s face, and watched as his chin went up, his cheeks growing dark. “Blaise…”

“No. Draco, how could you…?”

Pulling away from Harry’s side, Draco moved to his friend. “I just want you to be happy.”

“And you think coaxing the Sultan into giving me away will make me happy?” Blaise’s eyes were flashing.

“I hope that being with someone you feel passion for will do so, yes.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“Then I will bring you back.” The two young men turned to Snape, who suddenly had eyes only for Blaise. “If that is what you wish. Or free you. Or whatever you request.”

Blaise was silent for a long time, glancing at Harry before meeting Snape’s eyes once more. “Why did you not ask for me then?”

Snape sighed. “The sultan and I were never friends, as I’m sure you can see. I did not think he would grant such a favor.”

“You didn’t think I might want to know that you would want that? Or to even come visit again?” Blaise was practically vibrating in place, and it was all Draco could do not to touch him.

“I did not realize how attached you had become. I am sorry, Blaise.”

Letting out a little gasp, Blaise’s eyes shut abruptly, his head dropping so that his hair covered his face. “I c-c…”

Draco was about to step forward to hug his friend, but then Snape was there, his arms going around Blaise. “I should have asked,” he said softly.

Blaise’s body shuddered, and he turned his face into Snape’s chest. “Yes,” he agreed softly.

“You will accept him? As a gift?” Harry asked, his arm going around Draco’s waist.

Snape turned to glower at him. “I thought you did not believe in slavery.”

“I don’t. I know he is important to Draco, and I would see him happy. If this is how I can do that, then I will. If you both will agree?”

Blaise met Snape’s eyes. “I will. If… if he truly wants me.”

Snape’s expression softened once more as he gazed at Blaise. “Yes. I agree.” He drew Blaise into a soft kiss, and Blaise melted against him. Draco felt himself relax as he watched them. Perhaps things would work out after all.

After Blaise calmed a little, the four men settled around a table together for a light supper brought in by a few more slaves. Blaise settled against Snape’s side, constantly finding ways to touch him. Draco could see that he felt certain he would lose him again at any moment.

“How did it happen that you ended up taking him as your favorite?” Snape asked, looking between Harry and Draco.

Harry’s eyes focused on Draco. “I don’t know. I’m rather glad it has, but… I do admit, it seems odd.” He turned back to Snape. “I didn’t know you knew the royal family of Malus.”

His old adviser scowled. “Before you were born. Before everything fell apart. I was close to Draco’s father. After what happened, I swore I would do whatever it took to keep Riddle from stealing your throne. It was the least I could do for your mother.”

Harry’s expression softened at the obvious proof of the older man’s regrets. “I don’t think she ever blamed you, Severus…"

“You can’t know that. You were too young. There was a time…” He glanced at Draco. “I was fond of your father, even though I could see his faults.”

“He was always a very persuasive man. It wasn’t your fault if he drew you in.”

“So was Riddle.” Snape sighed.

Harry’s voice was firmer at that. “Yes, well, you made up for that by helping me after he tried to take over. Now, stop blaming yourself.”

Snape seemed to draw himself up, then expelled a breath. “It will always be there, Harry. Thank you, though.” He turned to Draco. “When did you get taken?”

“I was about twelve. I think someone let them in. We were all taken.” He scowled down at the plate in front of him. “I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

Snape nodded slowly. After another moment, he spoke again. “You are content here? It would be remiss of me to leave you here if I could help you. I may have ended up on a different side of the war than your family, but I am willing to help you. To take you into my home, if you wish.”

Draco swallowed, glancing at Harry. “I’m a slave.” He looked at Snape again. “I don’t have the choice.”

“Would you want to?” Harry asked softly, and Draco turned to him. 

Did he want to be free? He could easily answer that. Yes. He wanted to know he was free to do or be whatever he wished. At the same time, he would be constrained by the expectations of a free man—marriage, children, and no Harry. 

“I…” He glanced between the two men. “I don’t know. I…” He could see Harry was trying hard not to influence his decision. His face was closed off, and Draco’s heart clenched to see that expression.

“I know your parents would wish me to take you in,” Snape said. “You would not have to worry about how to make your way in the world. I could help you there.”

Draco frowned. “No…” He turned to Harry. “I want to stay with you.”

Harry’s voice was soft when he replied, and his expression softened as well.. “Are you sure? To always be a slave? Is that really what you want?”

“Better that then to never be able to touch you again. To kiss you… I… I need you too much.”

Harry pulled him into a tight hug. “Then I will make sure that you never regret that choice,” he whispered.

Draco clung to him, trying to forget that they were not alone in the room. “I love you, Harry. If being a slave is the only way to have you, then that is what I wish to be.”

“You will always be more than that to me,” Harry said softly. He pulled back to meet Draco’s eyes. “You know that, right?”

“I do,” he said softly. “You have always been a kind man. More so as time passes. I will make sure never to do anything that will cause you to regret that.”

Harry hugged him again. “You never could, Draco.”

Snape huffed. “All right. I believe we all understand. May we have a cessation of the maudlin sentimentality now?”

Draco flushed, but Harry chuckled. “You just don’t like being outdone, Severus.”

“I simply think these things have their place. In public is not one.”

“I didn’t realize a room with five people in it was public,” Harry said with a smirk, his eyes dancing.

“You know what I mean, Potter. Now cease being so flippant.”

“What will you do if I don’t?”

“Harry…” Draco squeezed his leg. He could see that Harry enjoyed tormenting his old adviser, but it was still embarrassing, and he didn’t like the dark look on Snape’s face, either.

”Oh, all right. Only because you ask me to stop, though, Draco.”

Snape sat back, glancing at Draco, then smirking at Harry. “Amazing. Someone who can actually have some positive effects on your personality, Harry? Perhaps I should have introduced the two of you much sooner.”

Draco flushed at the idea, but smirked. “Oh, we would have hated each other then…”

“Oh?” Harry seemed surprised at that.

“Oh, yes. Snape can tell you. I was a horrible brat. If things didn’t go my way, I held quite the grudge.”

“Indeed. I seem to recall something about half-drowning your cousin?”

“He deserved it. He took the last piece of my favorite candy.”

Harry’s eyes went wide. “You didn’t?”

Draco flushed. “Only a little?”

“‘A little?’ How do you drown someone only a little?”

“I um… dumped a bucket of water over his head,” Draco answered sheepishly.

The room was silent for a moment, then Blaise began to snicker. “A bucket of water?”

Soon Harry’s laugh joined Blaise’s. Snape shook his head. “You were an impertinent little brat. It looks as though your temper hasn’t changed that much…"

Draco snickered, watching Harry, who was grinning and shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the tale, and he knew that regaining the confidence to remember who he had been was only due to Harry. And that made him love him even more.


	6. Loss and Gain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco adjusts to Blaise's absence, and the sultan receives a few surprises.

The pair stayed for a week before leaving. Before they departed, Draco assured his friend he would write as often as he could. 

“You mean when you aren’t busy with your Sultan?” Blaise asked with a smirk.

Draco flushed. “As though you won’t be busy yourself.” He gave Blaise a squeeze. “Are you truly certain you wish this, Blaise?”

“God, yes. No one has ever…” He looked away, not able to finish the sentence. “I will be very happy. He is who I want. As the Sultan is who you wish. Promise me you’ll be careful, Draco? No one else will try to steal Severus from me, but Harry is the Sultan. No matter his feelings for you, there will always be those who will seek to hurt you.”

“I know. But he will take care of me. I’m sure of it.”

“I hope he will be able to protect you.” Blaise stroked his cheek, hugging him once more before stepping away. “I’d hate to lose my best friend. And I’m certain Severus would be quite put out he couldn’t rescue you.” He smiled softly.

It was odd to Draco Blaise could feel so strongly for a man Draco knew to be constantly snappish and snarky, but he did his best to push his own feelings aside and be pleased for his friend.

“I’m sure you and he will find a way to resurrect me back so you can lecture me and tell me you told me so, if that should happen.”

“I’d rather you made the idea unnecessary,” Blaise said with a grin. 

“I’m quite certain Harry will take good care of me, Blaise. Don’t worry.”

The two left with a load of gifts and a case full of Blaise’s belongings early one morning about a week after Snape had arrived. Once they were gone, things returned to normal. Draco was at a loss, though. He no longer knew what to do with himself. Harry was ensconced with his advisers constantly now, trying to negotiate with the ambassador from Betestrange. He also spent a great deal of time arranging the team to accompany the prisoners. They would escort them to to a neutral exchange point Harry had arranged with Betestrange’s ambassador. With Blaise gone, there was no one else Draco could really talk to. There was no one he was particularly friendly with in the Slave Quarters. Sure, there were people there he was willing to talk to, but it wasn’t the same as spending time with Blaise. 

Still, it was so confining staying in the Sultan’s quarters, so he took to wandering the garden, distracting himself with plans for when Harry was free. Sometimes he would walk the perimeter, and others he would walk along the route they often took to visit with James and his mother. On one such occasion, he stumbled across Ron and Hermione speaking softly in a secluded part of the garden. 

Susan and Ginny were nearby with a few others, so Draco wasn’t too concerned Ron might do something to compromise Harry’s cousin, but he did worry at the expression on their faces. Hermione looked as stubborn as the day she and Harry argued about that madwoman who wanted to give women the same status as men. Ron’s red face made him seem as though he were about to combust. 

All Draco could do was hope Hermione would come to her senses soon. She and Ron deserved to be happy, despite the obstacles between them. He slipped away before the others were any the wiser, and made his way to the Sultan’s rooms again. It seemed as though things might work out, so long as they didn’t blow up any further between them. Draco knew Harry’d planned to promote Ron the head of the expedition to the prisoner exchange, no matter how things turned out. Sure enough, when Harry appeared that evening, he was smiling widely.

“Everything finally agreed on?”

“Yes. Thank god. They’ve agreed to prisoners sight unseen, so they don’t know she’s not on the list. Of course, who knows who they’ve got. Still, any prisoners freed are better than none at all.” Harry settled next to Draco on the cushions. “How are you doing, Draco?”

“All right. Life’s been quiet, but I’m sure I’ll find something to occupy myself very shortly.” He smirked, then tugged Harry close and kissed him. 

Harry chuckled. “Oh? You think so? Anyone in particular?” he asked with a wink.

“Mmm. Perhaps. See… there’s this man I’ve had my eye on for quite a while, sire. Perhaps he would like to take advantage of me tonight?” Even as he spoke, Draco began to undo the buttons of Harry’s robe.

“And if he doesn’t like boys?”

“Oh, but I have it on good authority he does, sire. A little bird told me.”

Harry laughed again. “Did it? Was it a blond bird?”

Draco couldn’t help but laugh as well. “Something like that.” Leaning in as he pushed the robe off Harry’s shoulders, Draco kissed him. When he pulled away, his expression was more serious. “You’ve been so busy lately. You don’t have any meetings tonight, do you?”

“No, love. Not tonight. Tonight is all yours.”

Draco grinned. “Good.” His hands slid over Harry’s chest as they exchanged kisses, and he undid the sash at Harry’s waist that held up his trousers. “May I ride you, sire?”

“I’d love that. All this work has worn me right out. Watching you do all the work would be pure pleasure.”

“I endeavour to please, sire.” He kissed him once more, then rose to his feet and helped Harry stand as well. “Let’s get you more comfortable, and then I’ll give my Sultan a proper show.”

“Sounds perfect.” Harry let Draco help him onto the bed, then kissed him, his hand curling around the back of Draco’s neck.

After a more prolonged kiss than Draco meant to allow, he pulled out of Harry’s grasp, licking his lips, his eyes sparkling. “Sire. What kind of a boy do you think I am?”

“A very naughty one. Now be a good boy and please me.”

Draco grinned, then started a strip-tease, sliding off his vest slowly, back to the bed, glancing over his shoulder at Harry as he let it fall to the floor, then bent over as he pushed his trousers over his hips, his arse thrusting toward Harry, the loose cloth of the legs pooling around his feet. He stood up, then stepped out of them, then moved gracefully to the foot of the bed.

Harry was staring at him, his eyes dark with lust. “Draco… god…”

“Yes, sire? Is there something you need?”

Harry rose to get up, but Draco shook his head. “Stay there.” He crawled onto the bed, and over Harry so their skin brushed together as he straddled him. As soon as he was in reach, Harry’s fingers tangled in Draco’s hair and pulled him into another hungry kiss, devouring Draco’s mouth with tongue and lips and teeth. Draco groaned. “God… Harry…”

“Need you, Draco. Now.”

Draco nodded slowly, then reached for the lubrication to slick himself up. He rose up on his knees to stroke his fingers against himself, then pressed them into himself one after the next until he couldn’t wait any longer. Harry looked hungry enough to throw him onto the bed and pin him there so he could devour every last inch of him.

Sliding his fingers out, he shifted backwards until he felt the head of Harry’s cock pressing against him, then curled his still-slicked hand around Harry and stroked him for a moment, getting another groan from Harry before guiding him and pushing against him until Harry’s cock slid into him. “Oh… sire… yes.”

Harry’s hands clutched at Draco’s hips as he rocked slowly onto Harry’s cock. “Draco… god…”

“So full,” Draco whispered, leaning forward to kiss him again, stilling for a moment to become accustomed to the feeling once more, then rocked his hips back, then up, the two of them groaning in unison at the sensation as Harry slid nearly out of him again.

Slowly Draco moved, pushing onto him, his movements coming faster as their moans grew. Harry’s hands and eyes on him encouraging him to move even faster.

When Harry’s hand finally closed around Draco’s cock, Draco clenched tightly around him and gave a sharp cry, barely holding on to his control. “S-soon, sire. Please… want to feel you come inside me first.”

Nodding, Harry rolled them over, then kissed him hungrily once more as he thrust deep and hard inside Draco, his groan as he came swallowed between their kisses. Drained, he somehow still found the energy to continue to stroke Draco until Draco’s back arched and his cock sputtered between them, coating them both with his come.

After, tangled around each other, Draco knew he’d made the right choice when Severus offered to let him come with them. This was where he belonged. Forever. No matter what might come.

The prisoner exchange party set off the next day, and Draco watched from a window, wishing them well on their endeavour. Harry spent much of the day dealing with a few things neglected during the bargaining process, and Draco found himself alone once more. 

At a loss, he wasn’t sure what to do for the day. Remembering Harry would be with one of his wives that night, Draco scowled. Perhaps he would visit the Slave Quarters. He wasn’t close with any of the others the way he was with Blaise, but at least he could relax and take a long bath. It would be something to pass the time until Harry was finished. If he was lucky, Harry might even send for him after. 

That decided, Draco went to the door and asked to be escorted to the Slave Quarters. The guard nodded, and led Draco out of the room. 

As they walked, Draco mused. This would be his first visit to the Slave Quarters without Blaise. It was disheartening to realize he would not be there waiting to distract him tonight. Draco sighed. Perhaps he would go talk with Remus, who would likely lecture him about choosing Harry over his own happiness. Ridiculous man. Rather than deal with that, Draco made his way to the small room most of the others still considered his. Likely once the next wave of slaves were bought, someone else would claim it, but for now, he was able to use it when he was in the Slave Quarter. 

Upon entering the room, he was startled to find a package waiting for him on the pallet which served as a bed. He sat down, frowning at it. Was it something from Blaise? But then, why not give it to him in person before they’d left? Why had he left it here, not knowing when he might next be here in this room?

Then Draco smiled, a warmth growing in his chest. Blaise must have known he’d have to come here sooner or later. After all, they’d spent a good deal of the past month together. Perhaps he’d intended it as a way to cheer Draco up when that ultimately happened? Draco was only glad no one had stolen it. He was here so rarely, after all. He might never have known it was here in the first place.

He picked it up, then shook it. It sounded fairly solid. Unable to deduce the contents, and unwilling to wait any longer to find out what it contained, Draco opened the package, his eyes widening in delight at the sight of the box of candied fruit squares it contained. Blaise knew his fondness for sweets. How considerate of him to leave him a present of them. Without thought, he popped one piece into his mouth, then set the rest on his bed for now. When he returned to the Sultan’s rooms later, he would take the rest with him. It wouldn’t do to gorge himself on them, after all.

He stood to find a towel to take with him to the pool when the world spun around him. He sat down abruptly, blinking. Obviously he’d stood too fast. He took a few deep breaths, trying to regain his equilibrium, then realized the edges of the world were darkening around him. He stared in horror at the box. It had to be poison. Why would Blaise do that? 

Stumbling to his feet, he tried to move to the door, but the world went completely black around him, and he knew no more.

Regaining consciousness was like surfacing from a pool after being underwater too long. Sounds and sights that didn’t quite make sense as he blinked his eyes open. He caught snatches of words—including someone mentioning Antivenom.

Poison. Right. 

“Ha…” Draco’s throat was tight from the after-effects of the poison, and it was hard to get the word out. There was no need. At the syllable, Harry was there, squeezing his hand.

“Draco… god… thought I’d lost you.”

Draco tried to swallow, then winced. “Wha was?” he managed to slur.

“Paralytic venom. We got you the antidote in time, but…” Harry stroked his hair from his face. “Scared me.”

“Who?”

“We’re still looking. The palace is on a lock-down. Though Kingsley’s worried whoever did it has already left.”

Draco frowned, the idea seeming wrong. Whoever would have done this would have done it to get him out of the way, surely? He shook his head. “Here. Slave. Or… like.” He didn’t want to suggest Harry’s wives, but they were as likely as any of the slaves.

“I know, love. I think so, too. I’ve got the guards questioning the slaves. Kingsley’s personally speaking to my Harem to see if any of them know anything.”

Though he knew it hurt Harry to say it, Draco was glad to hear he hadn’t counted any of them out. Hopefully they would both be wrong. “Thank you,” he managed.

“Just rest. Whoever did this will pay. I promise you.” Harry’s eyes were dark, and his mouth thinned. “I don’t take well to those who treat my people as obstacles. There was too much of that under Riddle’s influence. I won’t have it now he’s gone.”

Draco smiled. “Water?”

Harry nodded, then reached for a pitcher at the side of the bed and poured him a small glass. “All right. Then, you should rest and recover some more. I promise, Kingsley and I will keep you apprised. You’re not moving until the healer says you can. Clear?”

“Yes, sire,” Draco said, trying to take the glass. Harry shook his head, then helped him to sit up enough so he could sip from the glass as Harry held it to his lips.

Draco flushed at the treatment. The Sultan tending to him while he was sick was wholly improper. But he didn’t have the breath to argue. He sank into the pillows, then squeezed Harry’s hand. “Thank you,” he said again.

“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake. Or if not me, then Kingsley. I promise, no one will be allowed to hurt you again.”

Smiling, Draco nodded, then closed his eyes and sank into sleep.

«*»

The recovery process was excruciatingly dull. The healer continued to order him to take disgusting tonics that were meant to cleanse Draco’s system, and he was not allowed from his bed to do more than bathe and pee. Once the list of suspects narrowed, Draco saw less and less of Harry. 

Remus began to come and sit with him, having been cleared early on. At least he wasn’t saying ‘I told you so.’ He was happy to read to Draco, who was still having difficulty staying awake too long. He suspected the Healer of putting sleeping potions in those tonics he was being force-fed. Slowly, he improved.

Still, Harry was there in the evenings. As soon as he’d recovered enough, he’d been settled in the Sultan’s rooms at his order. It meant he slept with Harry curled protectively around him each night. Though he refused to say how the investigation was going.

A week passed before Harry told him who the culprit was. One of his wives had bribed another slave to leave the package on his cot. They were still trying to find the guard who had passed messages between the two, but there was no further danger from them. The slave was to be punished, and Harry was still trying to decide what to do about his wife.

Draco barely recalled the woman. She was one of Harry’s wives who simply preferred not to see him. The one time he’d seen her hadn’t been great, but other wives had had far more negative reactions to him, so he’d assumed she preferred to be alone with Harry. He had always obliged when he knew she was visiting, understanding the feeling all too well.

Confused, Draco asked if he could meet with her to find out why she had done it.

“Why, love? It won’t make a difference.”

“I just… need to know. Please, Harry?”

“All right. I’ll have Kingsley escort her up. I don’t think she’s of any more danger to you, after all.”

“Thank you.”

She was led in later that afternoon, Kingsley on one side of her, and another guard on her other side. She didn’t seem as though she’d been mistreated. In fact, she looked as though she’d been prepared to spend the night with Harry, her outfit pristine, her dark blond hair curling carefully around her face, rather than staying in the dungeon she’d been occupying since her role in all this had been discovered. She scowled at the sight of him, ensconced on the Sultan’s bed. “Always were above your place,” she spat.

“What do you mean? We barely spoke.”

“Trying to get him all for your own. Don’t think no one noticed! You’re just a slave with delusions of your place in the world.”

“Tracey,” Harry said, his voice dangerous with warning.

She turned to glare at him. “You don’t care, do you? Never mind that there are those of us in the Harem who would do anything for you, Majesty. Who would love you better than he ever could.”

“That isn’t an issue, Tracey. You know my time will always be divided, even if only between wives.”

“He is not a _wife_. We shouldn’t ever have to see him! He is…” She glowered at Draco. “Nothing.”

“Wrong. Nothing is what you are about to be. Tell me. Those herbs Kingsley found in your belongings. Are they what we think?”

“They are medicine, sire. Nothing more.”

“You have been my wife for over three years, with not a single pregnancy to show for it. You share my bed often enough. Are you infertile?”

Her cheeks coloured. “No.”

“Are you certain, Tracey? Perhaps I should have the healer examine you.”

“I wish to remain beautiful for my Sultan, that is all.”

“And yet when we spoke to Tonks, she suggested the herbs might be used to prevent conception, Tracey.”

The girl paled, then dropped her gaze. “I just wished to look good for you, sire.”

“By keeping yourself free of carrying my child? Is that not why you are part of my Harem?”

The glare she finally shot Harry was so full of venom as to horrify Draco. “What does it matter? You have your heir. And two more besides. Why should I ruin my beauty for a man who does not care if I exist or not?”

“So bearing my child is a burden? Then I relieve you of it. Tomorrow, you will be sold at market. To the lowest bidder.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t!”

“I can. If you have so little regard for your Sultan, then there is no need to be his wife. I wish you luck in your new master. Perhaps if you are lucky, he will not want your children, either.” He nodded once at Kingsley, then turned to Draco and away from her.

Draco’s eyes widened as Kingsley and the other guard dragged her from the room even as she shrieked at Harry at the top of her lungs.

“No! You can’t do this! Not to me! No! Let me go…” Her screams faded as they dragged her away, and Draco hugged himself. Maybe Blaise was right? Maybe he wouldn’t be safe here as Harry’s boy. Worse, he’d never seen Harry act so coldly to anyone before. It was almost too much to take.

“Draco,” Harry said softly, stroking at his cheek. “Please look at me?” Draco did, but it was an effort to do so. “I’m sorry. I should have seen this coming and dealt with it.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Draco said, his voice almost toneless, lost in his own fears now.

Harry frowned at that. “Draco? What’s wrong?”

Though he was afraid to for a moment, scared what he would see when he looked into Harry’s eyes, Draco met Harry’s eyes. “How could you do that?”

Harry blinked. “Do… what?”

“She’s… a person. And you’re just going to sell her?”

“Oh.” Harry’s eyes shuttered for a moment, then he shook his head. “If she’d reacted in any other way, Draco… You know me. You know I’d rather make things work… don’t you?”

Not daring to hope, Draco nodded.

“But you heard her. If she’d succeeded, she’d have gone after others. Hermione, for having my ear. Or worse, Ginny or Susan. Even Tonks. I couldn’t allow it.” He sighed. “I know Kingsley. He’ll make sure that she’s not sent someplace bad. Just… Not royal. Or likely even noble. She needed consequences she would never have felt if she’d stayed, even if I left her in the dungeons.”

Draco wasn’t sure if it was enough, but he nodded. “I just don’t understand… She never acted anything but indifferently towards me,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Harry hugged him close. “I should have known her well enough to wonder what she was up to. Aside from Tonks and Ginny, she has been my wife the longest.”

Draco curled his arms around him, feeling the tension uncoil inside his chest with the comfort of it. “You couldn’t have known, Harry. Some people you can never tell until it’s too late. I shouldn’t have eaten it. I should have brought it to you. Or Remus. Or Kingsley. It’s my own stupid fault I didn’t take Blaise’s warnings to heart.”

“Well, you won’t need to worry about that any longer. From now on, you and I will eat from the same plate. I won’t let anything happen to you, love. Not ever again.” He gave Draco a gentle squeeze. “I almost lost you. I couldn’t bear it if that ever happened. I love you.”

Draco hugged him tight, overwhelmed. Whatever happened, he hoped Harry never regretted choosing him over any of his wives. “I love you, too, Harry,” he said softly.

«*»

The next few days, aside from a few meetings, Harry spent most of his day with Draco. They didn’t do more than talk or cuddle or eat, but Draco was glad of the company. Even when Harry decided he’d neglected his wives too long, he had them escorted to his rooms, rather than going to them. 

Tonks and James visited for a few hours, until James curled up on Draco’s lap and fell asleep, and Tonks joked Draco must have cast a sleeping spell on him, since he never fell asleep willingly. She picked him up gently so as to avoid waking him, kissed them both on the cheek, then took him off to the Harem.

Susan and Ginny visited together, and Draco’s heart melted when Susan allowed him to hold Albus. He truly was a miniature of Harry in ways James was not. His eyes, which were still more blue than anything else, seemed as though they would eventually darken to green. 

Though he had not talked much to Ginny before now, she was quite personable, and smiled indulgently as Harry played with their daughter. Draco was startled to realize these children and women were almost starting to feel as though they were his family as well.

That night, Harry made love to him again, and Draco clung to him, tears filling his eyes at the tenderness Harry treated him with. 

The next morning, they were still curled up in bed together when the door burst open, and Ron hurried inside, a wide grin on his face.

“Ron? You’re home already?”

“Yes! As soon as we saw who… well… just come, Harry. You have to!”

Draco sat up in the bed, and was shocked when Ron did nothing more than blush slightly at the sight of his naked chest. Usually, he was quick to turn away if he caught them doing anything too intimate, and he always avoided looking at the slaves when they were nude.

“What is it, Ron?” Harry asked, tugging on a robe before getting out of bed.

“You have to see, Harry.” Even through his embarrassment, he was keen on getting Harry to see whatever it was. 

“I’m not sure I should leave Draco.”

“I’m fine, Harry. I’m sure I could stand to go with you. I’ve been shut in here for about a week now. The healer’s not shoving those vile concoctions down my throat any more, even.”

Ron glanced between them, confused. “What’s wrong with Draco?”

“Nothing, Ron. He’s fine.”

“Yes. I’m all recovered now. So… do I have your permission to leave your bed, sire?”

Harry flushed slightly. “All right. So long as you promise to say if you get tired, okay?”

“I promise.”

He tugged his trousers on quickly before standing up. His balance was still off, but once he was standing, he felt fine. Still, Harry was there to put his arm around his waist. “All right, Ron. Lead on. But go slow. For Draco’s sake.”

“Yes, sire,” Ron said with a smile, bobbing his head. He turned to the door, then led them out of the room. Surprisingly, he didn’t lead the way to the throne room or to a meeting room, but to one of the private rooms in the Sultan’s wing of the palace. There was a huge crowd of people around the doorway, and Kingsley was waiting at the door when they arrived.

“Harry. Thank god. The healer’s in there with him now, but he’s been asking for you ever since he arrived.”

“He? Healer… Kingsley?” He glanced into the room, but the bed was obscured by curtains, so it was impossible to see who was lying there. “Why this room? You know how I feel…”

Kingsley smiled. “You’ll see.”

Harry stiffened beside him, and Draco glanced at his face. There was a mixture of fury, confusion, and a little hope there.

“He can’t… he’s… dead.”

Kingsley squeezed his shoulder. “Go on. He’s been asking for you,” he repeated.

If Harry’s arm hadn’t already been around his waist, Draco might have been left behind. As it was, when Harry stepped forward, he was reminded of Draco’s presence. His arm tightened around Draco, and Draco watched as the worry and annoyance faded away, hope taking its place. “Can’t be,” he whispered.

Draco finally led him into the room and toward the bed. It was as though Harry were scared to approach the bed for fear of who he would see in the bed.

“It can’t be that bad, can it, love?” he whispered.

Harry smiled softly at him, then gave him a squeeze. “Yeah. If I can face Riddle, I can do this, right?”

They took the last few steps together toward the bed, and then Harry let out a soft cry, and threw himself onto the bed, his arms going tight around the man laying there. “Sirius!”

“Hey, Harry. Sorry to worry you.”

”Worry me? Worry me! Are you mad? I thought… _everyone_ thought you were dead!”

Draco watched as thin arms curled around his lover. “I’m fine. Not in the tip-top of health, but they didn’t cut off anything vital.” Obviously, he was trying to joke, but Draco couldn’t see anything funny about the way Harry was clinging to the man as though he were about to disappear.

He knew who he was. Everyone did. He’d been like an uncle to Harry before he had been lost in battle. Everyone believed Crown Princess Bellatrix killed him in the midst of battle, and Harry himself captured her in retaliation. It had been his reasoning for her death sentence. Even Draco knew that.

After a moment, Harry pulled away. “Never do that again, you… idiot! I… I thought I’d lost you, too.”

It was hard for Draco not to step forward and take him in his arms.

“Well, you didn’t. I’ll be fine, Harry.” Sirius smiled, then glanced at Draco. “So… who’s this?”

Draco’s heart fluttered in his chest. Sirius was the closest thing to family Harry’d had before he married.

He never should have doubted. Harry smiled, then stood up and took his hand, leading Draco closer to the bed. “Sirius, this is Draco. He’s my lover.”

Sirius blinked at Harry’s words, glancing between the two men. “Your… what?”

“My lover.” His arm tightened around Draco, who was as stunned at Harry’s use of the word.

“But… the kingdom?”

“I have three heirs. It will be enough. I don’t ignore my wives. They’re well-treated. Most have their own interests.”

Sirius looked as though Harry had slugged him in the stomach. “And… everyone’s okay with this?”

“I don’t push it in people’s faces the way father did with mother,” Harry said quietly. “But I do deserve some happiness, don’t I?” Draco’s arm curled around Harry’s waist at the plaintive tone.

“Of course you do, Harry,” he answered for Sirius, who raised an eyebrow at him. “He’s a good man. I’m lucky to get even a small bit of his time, never mind the great amount I do.”

Sirius eyes darted between the two men, and he swallowed. “Come a long way from when James and I were your age, Harry,” he finally said quietly. “You’re more courageous than…” He scowled and looked down. “Than some my age,” he finished after a moment.

It was obvious to Draco Sirius meant himself, but he stayed silent. Harry might be his business, but he didn’t know Sirius—just as a name.

“What do you mean, Sirius?” Harry asked.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sure I’ve lost all chance, now.” His face blanked, and then he smiled. “So… heirs? All named Sirius, I hope?”

Harry frowned for a moment when Sirius dropped the subject, then he laughed. “Nah. James Theodore…”

“Don’t tell me you married Tonks?” he asked, astonished.

Harry nodded, smiling. “I needed someone who would be able to help me through the minefield of dealing with a harem after the war, and she was the perfect candidate to be my first wife. She offered to step aside when I married Ginny, but I’m glad I have her. Keeps me honest about it all.” He flushed. “Heck, if not for her, I’d have probably pushed Draco away when Remus started to object. She told me…”

Suddenly, Sirius was very much alert. “What?” he asked, eyes wide.

Harry stopped mid-sentence. “What’s wrong? I mean… I know it’s kind of odd that she encouraged it, but…”

“No. Remus? He’s…” Sirius licked his lips. “… Still here?”

Blinking for a moment, Harry glanced at Draco, then to Sirius, who looked about ready to jump from the bed. “Yes. I… made him head slave. After… everything. He was Father’s favorite, after all. I hoped it would provide the slaves with some continuity.”

Sirius paled, then covered his face with his hands, mumbling something neither of them could understand.

“Sirius?”

When Sirius’s eyes rose, he looked as though he’d gone through a second imprisonment to be only just this second freed. Draco had a feeling that perhaps that might have happened—inside himself.

“Where is he?” he asked softly.

“Who? Remus?” Harry shrugged, more confused now than before. “The Slave Quarters, I assume. Why?”

“Could you… have him brought here?”

Before Harry could speak, Draco squeezed his arm. “I’ll do it.”

“I don’t understand. Sirius, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you. Just… I’d like to see him.”

Draco waited until Harry’d nodded before he moved away to the door, where Kingsley and Ron were still standing. “The Sultan has asked for Remus?”

Ron was as confused as Harry, but Kingsley wasn’t surprised. “He’ll be here. Ron?”

“Right. I’ll be right back.” He made his way toward the Slave Quarters and was soon out of sight.

With one last glance at Kingsley’s knowing expression, Draco returned to Sirius’s room, settling on the edge of the bed. Sirius and Harry were talking quietly.

“I’m sorry if it all startled you…”

“It wasn’t you, Harry. Really. Just… a lot at once.” Sirius still looked as though he were holding something in, and Draco was sure he knew a piece of it. Sirius had wanted his Sultan’s slave. Now that James was gone… Draco frowned. If that were true, then why hadn’t he asked Harry for him sooner? James had been dead for nearly two decades. Surely Sirius could have asked for him as a boon from whoever was running the country in Harry’s name?

Still, whatever his reasons, Draco and Harry would know soon enough.

As they waited, Harry told Sirius about his children. How James was brilliant and perfect, and Lily more beautiful than any child born before, and Albus would grow to be his brother’s best friend and adviser. Draco smiled indulgently. They were good children, though Harry might be a touch blinded by his love for them.

It wasn’t more than ten minutes before Remus entered the room. “Ron said you wanted to see me, Sire…” His eyes went round at the sight of the man ensconced in the bed, the word trailing off to nothing for a moment, followed by, “Sirius?”

“Hey, Moony,” Sirius said, and if Draco had doubted before, he knew now for certain. Sirius was in love with the head slave.

“How? When?” Remus hurried to the side of the bed, suddenly completely unaware anyone else in the room existed.

“Ron brought him home. He’s been prisoner of the Betestranges.”

“God… Sirius…” Remus dropped to his knees, his arms curling around Sirius tightly.

“Remus,” Sirius whispered, the one word full of meaning. 

This time, Draco was sure Harry caught it, too. He went still at the reaction, watching the two men warily. Draco stood and put his arm around Harry’s waist. He was about to suggest they withdraw when Sirius pulled Remus into a kiss.

After a moment, Remus wrenched himself free, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide once more. Then they narrowed, and his hand shot out, smacking Sirius across the face. “Bastard!”

Harry and Draco stared, shocked, as Remus stepped away from Sirius’s bedside, watching as Sirius tried to catch him unsuccessfully before he was out of range. “Remus, please! Let me explain!”

Remus’s eyes were wild, and there were spots of color high on his cheeks. “Explain? How can you… I can’t believe you would _do_ that! Damn you, anyway!” 

He turned to leave, but Harry caught him. “Remus? What’s wrong? It was just a kiss…”

“Not just… bastard… _James’s_ kiss…” Remus’s words faded in and out behind clenched teeth. “Lied to me!”

“I had to, Remus!”

Remus whirled to glare at him. “You had to? You were his best friend! Why didn’t you ask him?”

“Remus… Sirius… what? Will one of you explain this to me _now_? Before I have to separate you two permanently?” Harry asked, sounding far more stern than ever before.

Remus flushed, then crossed his arms and glowered at Sirius. “He knows more than I do, quite obviously.”

Sirius paled, then let his eyes drop to the blankets. “It’s… a long story.”

“We have time,” Harry assured him, still stern.

“Right. Well… Remus… was a present. For your dad. He and I used to goof off a lot during lessons. So your grandfather promised him if he buckled down, he’d be allowed a personal slave.” Sirius shrugged. “Wasn’t too hard. So he and I went to the slave market ourselves, and as soon as we saw Remus…” Sirius glanced at Remus, who was avoiding his gaze.

The idea of being given a slave as a present made Draco feel ill, and suddenly he felt a great deal more sympathy for the older man.

“So dad bought him?”

Sirius nodded slowly. “It wasn’t that bad, Harry. He was our age. More like a… a friend.”

From the scowl on Remus’s face, Draco thought Sirius might be a bit blind to the truth, but he held his tongue—for now.

“So… what does this have to do with why Remus slapped you?” Harry asked.

“I’m getting to that. See James… he was… protective of Remus. And… well, one of our other cousins--someone we didn’t know as well--wanted to spend the night with Remus one night. Well… your dad wouldn’t allow it. So your grandfather agreed he was the only one who could be intimate with Remus.” Sirius swallowed. “Except… he didn’t. I mean… didn’t want it.” 

Glancing up at Remus, Sirius swallowed. “I did.” Remus seemed to be doing his best to ignore everything Sirius said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? So… when did dad change his mind?”

“He didn’t. I… I tricked him. Told him I wanted to spend some time with Moony.”

“So you lied to your sultan. And to me?” Remus burst out, more furious now than when the explanation started. 

“No!” After a moment, Sirius wilted. “Y-yes. I guess. It was never malicious, Remus. I thought… I could tell James… later.”

“Later. When? After he’d married his first wife, perhaps? After his father died? After Harry was born? When would a good time have been, Sirius?” Remus asked, eyes flaring now.

“I don’t know! I never meant…!”

“Well, you did. Why should any of us believe this sweet little tale, Sirius, hm? James has been dead for nearly twenty years now. And you… never… after…” Remus’s words broke off, and he sank to the floor, hands over his eyes. 

Draco moved to his side, putting an arm around him. It was the least he could do for the man who had done everything he could to protect him.

“I… Remus… I’m sorry. I know it’s too late to say it now, but I never meant this to hurt you. It was the only way I could think to see you.”

Harry looked between the two men. “What did you do?”

Sirius took a deep breath. “Kingsley would deliver Remus to the room I was in—one James and I used sometimes when we wanted more privacy—and I would… hide. Until Remus came in. Then I’d blow out the lamps. Speak to him in a low voice, so he couldn’t tell mine from James’s and… well…”

“So he never knew it was you, and not father?”

“No,” Remus answered the question, his voice soft. “I always assumed James was scared of what others would think. Then he married Lily, and everything changed…” He met Sirius’s eyes. “Why? I thought it was because of Lily.”

“It was. In a way. James wanted me to marry. Kept sending me off to meet eligible girls. To balls… Never gave me a chance to catch my breath. And then Harry was born, and…” Sirius sighed and closed his eyes. “Afterwards, I couldn’t tell you. I thought…” His words trailed off, and he hid his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Remus.”

When Remus met Sirius’s eyes, he was hugging himself, his eyes tired and sad. “Why couldn’t you tell me? All this time…”

“Remus… I… I know I’m an idiot. And… I couldn’t let myself hope, after… But… being there… all the things they did to me… I swore if I ever saw you again, I would explain.”

Remus stood and moved to the bed. “So explain.”

Sirius’s voice was hollow when he spoke. “I love you. I can’t remember when I didn’t. It was like… the moment I saw you, I couldn’t _not_ love you.”

Slowly, Remus sank onto the bed, looking at his hands. “I used to live for the nights he called me. After they stopped, I wondered if I’d somehow offended him, or bored him, perhaps.” He closed his eyes, then opened them again, turning to Draco. “I became… bitter.” 

“I can’t blame you. It must have been horrible. Not to know…” Draco looked up at Harry, who moved to his side and slid an arm around his waist.

Remus nodded, his eyes meeting Sirius’s once more. “I used to dream. That he wasn’t dead. That I had to prove myself. Serve his son well. And someday… I would be rewarded.”

Sirius reached out to touch his hand. “You deserve more than I can guarantee, but… If you’ll have me, I swear, Remus, I’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you.”

Doubt clear on his face, Remus glanced at Harry. “It’s not exactly yours to give, Sirius.”

Harry’s chin rose. “Yes. It is. If you want it, Remus. I want you both to be happy.”

Obviously, the offer took Remus by surprise. Perhaps he had assumed Harry would punish him for questioning his own relationship with Draco? “You would… let me go?”

“I would. If that is what you wish.”

“But… I’m a slave.”

“Who has served my family for, what? Twenty-five years? I’d say you’ve more than earned your freedom.” Harry turned to Sirius. “That doesn’t mean you can take advantage of him, Sirius. I expect you and he to discuss this. If this spills into my court, you are the one who will answer for it.”

Sirius flushed at the admonition, but there was pride and the smallest bit of hope in his eyes. “I understand, sire. Thank you,” he said, his voice soft. His eyes turned to Remus. “So… will you have me, Remus?”

After a long pause, Remus nodded, and then, in the next second, he’d flung himself at Sirius, his arms curling around the other man, kissing him.

Harry gave Draco a squeeze. “I think that’s our cue to exit, don’t you?”

Draco nodded, then smiled, glancing only once over his shoulder as they left the room.


	7. In the Sultan's Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has a surprise for several of his people, and Draco tells more of his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, folks. I've recently lost my cat, and it's been rather difficult to focus. Still having bad days, so the next one might take a while as well, but I will try to get it up soon. Thank you in advance for your patience, and thank you for reading.
> 
> \- Elf

It took several days for Sirius to recover enough to be allowed out and about by the healer, but once he was able, the Sultan called together his court. He also insisted Draco should be there, though Draco argued with him on the matter.

“I don’t belong there.” The idea made Draco want to run.

Obviously, after going back and forth about the problem for several minutes, Harry was done arguing with him. His voice took on the steel quality Draco mentally referred to as Harry’s ‘inner Sultan.’ “Well, I say you do, and as your Sultan, you still are required to obey me.”

Draco flushed. “Yes, sire.” He sulked for a good while after, though, until Harry finally tickled him out of it.

“It won’t be as bad as you think, Draco,” he whispered softly in Draco’s ear as they lay curled around each other on the bed after a lovely bout of sex which left Draco far calmer and happier than before.

“I hope not,” Draco murmured. He wasn’t scared of facing Harry’s court. After all, he knew most of them. Still, after nearly being poisoned, he suddenly felt a great deal more exposed; more vulnerable. It was hard to push the feeling away.

Harry gave him a squeeze. “It will be fine.” Rather than argue further, Draco nodded, then kissed him again, letting himself get lost in the feeling.

A few days later, he found himself sitting once more at Harry’s feet in the throne room. Though this time, there would be few surprises. Certainly none of the sort when Severus had arrived.

Harry started with rewarding those who had helped to bring the captives home. Each was gifted with the Sultan’s thanks in the form of a small purse and robe, and Ron, as the leader, was promoted to the highest ranks of Harry’s guard.

He didn’t stop there, though. Ron stood to move away, but the Sultan stopped him. “Ronald. You have not only served us faithfully for many years, but you have many times over proved your loyalty to us and our people. And you have brought home a war hero who we all thought lost. You have gone above and beyond the call of duty, and so we would ask you to become assistant to our military adviser. Will you accept this post?”

Ron gaped at him, stunned. “Sire… I… I am… honoured.” He smiled widely, then bowed low. “I will gladly accept, sire, if it is what you wish of me.” He was beaming when he rose, and Draco couldn’t hold in a small grin at what the other man was likely thinking—this would mean he was of status high enough to ask for Hermione’s hand.

“We are pleased you are willing. Scrimgeour wishes to retire soon, and so we hoped you and he could work together before he left. We are sure you and he will have much to talk of.”

Ron nodded. “Yes, sire. Thank you.” He returned to Kingsley’s side, where the older man smirked at him.

Then it was Sirius’s turn. Remus helped him to the dais Harry sat on, remaining at his side, though dropping to his knees. Though Sirius had recovered, he was still quite weak, and Draco was glad the former prisoner had a guardian in Remus. They actually seemed quite well-suited, the more Draco learned of Sirius.

Harry rose to his feet, meeting Sirius’s eyes. “We are glad you are returned to us, Sirius. We ask nothing more than that you stay at our side and guide us as you did before your disappearance. In return, you will have a place here for as long as you wish it.”

Sirius bowed his head, smirking and winking at Draco before he raised his head. “As you wish, sire. I’m sure I can find some way to become accustomed to a more… leisurely lifestyle.”

“Good. Because I expect you to be here to guide our son as well,” Harry said in a softer tone meant only to be heard by those nearest the throne.

“I shall endeavor to be here a good deal longer, sire. I have but one request.”

“Ah, but that has already been anticipated. Remus?”

Remus rose slowly, his face startled and worried. “Sire,” he said, bowing deeply.

“You have served us faithfully all our life. But we require a new service of you. Are you willing?”

Looking uncertain, Remus nodded once. 

Harry smiled. “Good. Our cousin here has sustained great hurt in our service, and we wish you to become his personal attendant.” Remus’s cheeks flushed. “Will you do this for us?”

Remus nodded again, now more certain. “Yes, sire.” His cheeks were flushed and his eyes sparkled. “I would be honoured.”

“Thank you. For this, there is no other gift we can give but to free you.” He held out a scroll, and Remus’s eyes grew wide at the words. Free in private was far different from being recognized as being free in public. Freeing him in front of the entire court made it far more binding than any words that had come before.

“Sire… I am…"

Harry’s voice went softer, so that only Remus, Sirius and those closest to them could hear. “I know. Take good care of him for us.”

Still stunned, Remus managed a small smile, taking the scroll and sliding his arm around Sirius’s waist. “I will, sire. Gladly.”

Harry nodded, then turned and sat once more, watching as Remus helped Sirius to his chair. Remus settled Sirius in his chair once more, then stood behind him, eyes bright. The court was full of whispers of speculation, but somehow, none of it seemed to touch him. Draco couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

It lasted right up until Harry spoke once more. “Draco?”

Draco turned to Harry. “Sire?”

“Please rise?”

Suddenly, Draco heard nothing but the pounding of his own heart. He rose, a part of him dreading what would come next. Harry wasn’t going to free him and send him away, was he?

Rising from his cushion, Draco turned, then bowed low in front of Harry. Harry wasn’t displeased with him somehow, was he? Harry had seemed quite happy with him of late. Had something changed?

“Draco, though you are a relatively new member of our household, you have made quite the impression. Not only upon ourself, but on the others in our household as well.”

Well, that didn’t sound too bad. Draco looked up. Harry was smiling at him.

“Because of this, we would hope you might be willing to take on a more formal role for us?”

“More formal, sire?” What more could a slave do for a sultan?

“We are now without someone to watch over the slaves. We know you have some interest in helping your fellow slaves, and would be grateful if you would take on those duties for us.”

Draco’s eyes grew round. “Sire?” Harry was giving him even more status, instead of keeping him simply as his own personal slave. It boggled Draco’s mind. “If you would ask it of me, I would most happily comply, sire.”

Harry’s smile was as wide as when Ron had accepted his appointment as assistant Minister. “Good. You can work with Remus to learn the necessary details, since he and Sirius won’t be going anywhere any time soon.”

“Yes, sire,” Draco said, grinning at him. “And thank you for thinking so much of me.”

Stepping closer, Harry reached out to stroke Draco’s cheek. “I always will, Draco,” he said softly.

Draco wished Harry could kiss him, and decided to ask for one when they were alone later. 

He was about to thank Harry again when the side door opened, and the two men turned to see someone—a guard—hurry up to Kingsley and whisper something in his ear. Whatever the man said, it seemed to please Kingsley, and he nodded, then whispered something to him. The man turned and hurried once more from the room.

Draco retreated to his cushion as Kingsley approached the throne. He whispered something to Harry, then glanced in Draco’s direction. Harry’s face grew serious, and he nodded, whispering something back, then stepped to the edge of the dais. “Unless you are a part of my inner court, I would ask you all to leave now. Thank you all for being here.”

The murmuring filled the room once more, but slowly, many of the courtiers filed from the room, though Kingsley caught Ron as he tried to do so, then shook his head at him before moving to the main entrance doors, waiting for the remaining stragglers to leave. Once they had, he opened the door enough to see out, then turned to Harry. “Ready, sire.”

Whatever was going on was either very serious, or very secret. Harry settled in his throne, looking the most sultan-like Draco had ever seen before. Once he was settled to his satisfaction, he nodded once to Kingsley, who opened the door. 

Four guards came in, an older man walking in their midst, and when Draco saw who it was, all the air disappeared from his body as though someone had slugged him hard in the stomach. He tried to scramble backwards, but Harry jumped to his feet to catch him before he could topple from the dais. 

“Draco?”

“No,” Draco whispered, barely able to manage the word. “Let me go… please… have to… please… no…”

“Shh… it’s all right. No one here would ever let him hurt you, Draco. I swear it as Sultan of Albion. Do you believe me?”

The words cut through Draco’s panic, and he focused on Harry’s face, then nodded slowly. “Yes, sire. Please… I… don’t wish to see him.”

“Even though I won’t let him hurt you?”

“I… can’t.” He felt worthless admitting it. Surely Harry deserved someone braver than himself? “Please don’t make me?”

Harry sighed, then hugged him close. “Very well. I should not have sprung this on you. I never meant to. He was just brought in, and I hoped the chance to confront him might help you.”

Draco hid his face in Harry’s shoulder. “I… too much. Too many people. And…" Draco’s throat closed. So much crowed his mind. That face—how could he face it, even now? What would Harry think of him once he found out? It was too much for Draco to be able to even contemplate, never mind the panic filling him just at the thought.

“What if Kingsley and Ron took him into one of the side rooms? Just the five of us?”

It was as hard to agree as it was to disagree. He did not want Harry to think he did not trust him, but neither did he want to face that man. Not ever again. “I… don’t know.”

Harry pulled his chin up gently. “I swear, Draco. No matter what happens, I won’t let him hurt you.”

Biting down hard on his lip, Draco watched his face for a moment, then closed his eyes. “You’ll hate me,” he whispered.

“Never. Draco, I could never hate you. I swear it.”

Draco opened his eyes, meeting Harry’s, those bright green eyes he adored. The only thing he saw there was worry for himself. “I…” He closed his eyes again. “All right.”

Harry hugged him. “Good. Will you be okay for a moment while I talk to Kingsley?”

Nodding, Draco settled at the side of the throne, the side of the chair blocking any view of that man. Harry moved away, then returned only a few moments later. He held his hand out to Draco. “Can you walk alright?”

Draco drew himself to his feet. “I’m not crippled.” Just terrified. “Where?” He turned away from where the guards stood, trying to avoid looking at the man.

Harry frowned, but took his arm gently. “This way.” He led the way to a room off to the side of the dais.

The room was small, with velvet-cushioned divans along one wall. Harry lead Draco to the centre one, then settled on it, pulling him down next to him, and wrapped his arm around him. “I truly didn’t mean for this to upset you, Draco. I should have known better.”

“It is hardly your fault, sire,” Draco said softly, not quite able to relax into his embrace. “It was… a shock. I doubt I would have reacted better if I’d been forewarned.”

A warm hand stroked his back, and Draco leaned into the touch. “Well, hopefully, confronting him this way will help you get past all this.”

Draco doubted it would, but he didn’t say so. They were silent while they waited, but Draco couldn’t help but watch as the door opened.

It was amazing, how badly someone could affect one when you were not even aware of their name. Then again, Draco had good cause. The man had not changed in the least in the five years since Draco had seen him. His eyes were still cruel, his face bore a few too many scars, and he was leering in a way that made Draco’s stomach churn. It took everything he’d learned from his father not to try to run again.

He could tell the moment the man recognized him, as the leer grew wider across his face. “Well, well.” 

Before he could say more, Kingsley hit him across the back of the head. “No one was speaking to you. Stay silent.” Kingsley looked at Harry. “Should we chain him, sire?”

“Has he tried to escape?”

“Not yet. Still…"

“I trust you and Ron to keep him controlled.” Harry turned to Draco. “Draco?”

Swallowing, Draco met Harry’s eyes. “Sire?” he asked softly, wincing when he heard the man’s laugh at his shaky voice.

“Is this the slaver you were given to?”

Taking a deep breath, Draco turned to the man. He wasn’t going to let anyone say he hadn’t taken a good look at him. “Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

Harry’s arm slid around his waist. “Are you able to talk about what he did?”

Draco shook his head, then hid his face in Harry’s shoulder. 

Stroking a hand over Draco’s back, Harry turned to Kingsley. “What is his name?”

“He goes by Macnair, sire. Has quite the little city growing around his operations. Barely leaves his enclave any longer.”

“Worried, were you?” Harry asked, directing his question to the slaver.

Macnair snorted. “No. There will always be a market for my product, whether the current sultan approves or not. After all, I’m one of the best sources of my sort of slave. I see you aren’t so quick to free all your own slaves." His eyes flashed to Draco, then to Harry, smirking widely.

“What I do with my people has nothing to do with you. I think you’ll find you might have a few problems. You see, I don’t think people like you will be allowed in this country for much longer. Not with the startling number of slaves that have been freed since the end of the war. Yes, there are still slaves. I intend to encourage my people to free their slaves at every opportunity. I also plan to punish those who sell humans wholesale. You’ve been chosen as an example.”

“You think your nobles will allow you to do away with their slaves? They depend on them for their comfortable lives. They’ll fight you.” Macnair’s eyes narrowed, but Draco was gratified to hear his voice waver. Obviously he wasn’t as certain of that fact as he wanted to pretend.

“I’m sure some will. I have plans for when they do. Depending on the strength of their objections, of course. I won’t let them stop me, though. If I can, by the time my son becomes sultan, all slavery in Albion will be but a memory.”

“You won’t succeed.”

“I think you’ll find I can do whatever I wish. The people love me. I’m their hero. I think they’ll see things my way far easier and far quicker than you might think.” Harry stood. “I think we’re done here. Kingsley, you know what I want from him. Feel free to be as vicious as you feel you need to get it from him.”

It wasn’t exactly a smile Kingsley returned, and the sight of his eyes glinting with malice, and his bared teeth gave Draco the chills. He was only glad the look was for Macnair, and not for himself. “Yes, sire.” The dark-skinned man bowed low.

Harry nodded, then turned to Draco. “Come, love. Let’s go take a long bath. I think we could both do with some relaxation, don’t you?”

Draco blinked at him, then nodded, ignoring the others, his arm curling around Harry’s. “Yes, sire,” he said softly. “I’d like that very much.” He didn’t glance back as they left the room, but he could feel the slaver’s eyes burning into him as they left.

When they returned to the Sultan’s quarters, Draco was shaking a little with the effort of holding himself together. He even considered asking Harry if they could wait. He needed to get away for a bit. To not think. 

It was obvious, though, Harry wasn’t about to let Draco hide. Not now. His arm was tight around Draco, if gentle. “Bath, or would you prefer to rest for a little before we eat?” he asked, solicitous of Draco in a way he’d not been before.

“I… I don’t know,” Draco said softly, still feeling as though he were about to jump out of his skin. “I don’t…” He let his chin drop, and his eyes closed, angry with himself he couldn’t get past this. Harry deserved better from him.

Harry sighed, then pulled his chin up. “I won’t force you to tell me, Draco. This is eating you up. I hate seeing it. I want you to know I would never judge you by what someone else did to you. I love you. And if I can help you past this in any way, you have only to tell me. Whether that be listening, holding you, or even executing that man. Say the word, and I will do it.”

Draco’s eyes went wide at the last. “You would kill him for me?” Not that he wanted Harry to sully himself in such a way. Still, it was startling to hear Harry would go so far.

“If that is what you wish, yes.”

It was too much, and Draco pulled away. “I am not worth that. Just a slave.” Now, it was not Blaise’s voice in his head, and the voice he did hear made him shudder with disgust. How Harry could even touch him was beyond Draco’s understanding at the moment. “Not worthy.”

Harry watched him sadly. “I don’t believe that, Draco. I have seen who you are. Kind. Generous. And strong. Don’t let him destroy you.”

“He already has.” Draco’s whisper was barely a breath, and he turned away from Harry, moving to his room. He couldn’t do this right now. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

“Draco…” Draco stopped in his tracks and turned to Harry. “You need to talk about this. I understand if you can’t talk to me, but perhaps someone else who would be sympathetic? You can’t let this poison you like this. I don’t want to lose you this way.”

“Why would you want to hear… that?” Draco asked him in a strained voice.

“Because I love you. And I care how you feel. If I can, if you’ll let me, I want to comfort you. It is my fault you are so upset right now. The least I can do is listen.”

Draco wanted to run. He just didn’t know if he wanted to run away, or run into Harry’s arms. There was still a part of him that saw the whole nightmare as something which could eventually be wiped away, but the more rational part of him knew that would never happen. He was terrified Harry would be disgusted by him after hearing the truth. What would he do if Harry sent him away.

Harry stepped carefully closer, almost acting as though he were a skittish animal. “Let me listen, Draco. Please?”

Hugging himself, Draco nodded. “All right. But if it disgusts you—”

Harry stopped him with a shake of his head. “It won’t. At least I won’t be disgusted with you. I swear it.”

Raising his eyes to Harry’s, Draco swallowed at the earnestness he saw there. “All right.” He turned and moved to the cushions where they often lounged when they were not out in the gardens or in bed. He settled on one at the edge of the pile, then waited for Harry to sit as well. He was grateful when Harry settled across from him rather than next to him on the cushions. He wasn’t sure he would be able to handle being held while he talked. Though he could see from Harry’s expression, if he wanted comfort, it would be offered in the space of a moment.

There was silence for a moment, then Draco licked his lips. “I was thirteen. When we were taken. I remember them saying he would be delighted with training me. At the time, I thought… I thought he would be teaching me how to… dig. Bow. I didn’t know they meant…" He closed his eyes. “I’d barely started thinking about that sort of thing on my own. I was…"

“Innocent,” Harry said softly.

Draco glanced at him. “Vulnerable. I was so sure I was strong. That if I remembered everything father ever taught me, I would come out unscathed, and I could escape.” Draco licked his lips again. “There was never any chance. Only when they took me from the cart to take me to him. They had too tight a hold on me. They knew I would run.

“After I was bound, he kept me caged with a few other boys. All teens. Apparently it’s his…” Draco swallowed thickly. “… Specialty.” He couldn’t look at Harry’s face, but he saw his fist clench on his lap, and hunched forward as though to protect himself.

“We traveled for several days. Sometimes the guards would come to retrieve a boy or two. Most never returned.” The few who had been brought back had not lasted more than a day or two after, but that was a memory Draco quickly pushed away.

“We arrived at his compound, and were led to a room. We were all chained together before being released into the cage, and… I was furious. There was no way to run. The room was empty. A warehouse. No windows. Only a pail and pallets. I didn’t know what to do with myself once the guards unlocked us, then left us there. I didn’t have to wait long.”

Draco closed his eyes. He could still remember his sharp rage at being manhandled by the guards when they came to retrieve him. How he’d been so sure there was a mistake, and if he only said the right thing, he would be released. He could still remember the guards’ cold laughter.

“They took me to a much more lavish space, leaving me there and locking the door behind me. I was not sure what was happening. Then _he_ came in. I hadn’t seen him since they’d given me to him.” He could remember confusion at the expression on the man’s face. It still gave him chills. He’d seen it again today, and the fear had been as sharp as ever.

“Draco…” Harry reached out to him.

Draco shied away, twisting away from his hands. “No. Don’t.” Draco couldn’t resist and hugged himself. “I can’t. Not yet.”

Harry nodded. “All right.”

“He… smiled at me. Even though I knew who he was, if not what he wanted… I believed I could negotiate with him.” The sound of Macnair’s laugh at Draco’s insistence he be freed filled his mind. “Obviously, it didn’t work. He told me to strip. Said… I would get him more than any of the boys he’d trained before. That I was a true prize. That he already had potential buyers for me.” Oh, and how that thought made him ill, thinking of who Macnair might have given him to if things had been slightly different.

“He got angry when I refused to undress. So he tore my clothes off himself. And then…” The memory itself was too much. The words wouldn’t come, and his throat closed to prevent them. He shuddered, fighting with himself. Then Harry’s arms were around him, and sobs racked his body.

The tears didn’t stop quickly. Draco mourned what had been taken from him, Harry’s arms tight around him, no other sounds filling the room but Draco’s gasping sobs. When they finally stopped, he clung to Harry weakly, glad to still feel Harry’s arms around him.

After a bit, he shifted to see Harry’s face. “You’re not disgusted with me?”

Harry’s face was soft with concern, but there was no disgust there. “For what? For being attacked? It’s hardly your fault he hurt you, Draco. There are certainly people I am furious and disgusted with, but you are not one of them, okay?”

Draco nodded. “Okay.” He leaned into the embrace, feeling as though he could finally breathe for the first time since Macnair had entered the throne room hours before.

“Do you need to talk more?”

That had been the most terrible part, though Draco had been at Macnair’s compound over a year. He shook his head. “No. That was the worst of it.”

Harry stroked his cheek. “Are you certain? I don’t want you feeling you have to keep anything from me, Draco.”

“I know. The rest is… just there.” There were spots that would likely be tender, if prodded, but nothing had been as bad as that first time. “I can answer questions, if you want. I do feel calmer, now.” Raw, like his insides had been scrubbed, but calmer. The flutter of immediate panic and the need to get away were gone. He sank deeper into Harry’s embrace, grateful for the comfort, now.

“How long were you there?”

“Over a year. I think. I’m not certain.” Draco’s memory of his training there was blurred, especially during the days where he’d barely been conscious from the things that Macnair had done to him.

“He trained you personally?”

Draco swallowed, looking down, unable to meet Harry’s eyes as he nodded. He was gratified when Harry gave him a squeeze. After he managed to gather himself, he looked up once more, though he still avoided Harry’s gaze. “Until he got bored with me. Then he decided to sell me.” Draco licked his lips. 

“What happened with the buyers he mentioned?”

“I… never saw any of them. I don’t know if they weren’t interested, or…”

“Well, that would have been at the height of the war. Maybe they ended up having bigger concerns,” Harry said, seeming pleased at the idea.

“Maybe.”

“So how long did he wait before selling you in the Market?”

“Another few months, I think.” He shivered at the memory of standing in front of the crowd of leering men, feeling more bare than since he’d first begun training with Macnair. “Then I was brought here.”

Harry hugged him again. “I’m glad.”

A sliver of pain went through Draco, but now that he’d started, it was easier to say what needed to be said. “I wasn’t. Not at the time. I was terrified. Blaise had to do a lot to calm me before I could be… useful.”

“I’m sorry.” Draco could hear in Harry’s voice that he truly meant it. “I… were you badly treated?”

“I believed so then. But mostly, I was terrified. I was sure any day, some man would choose me, and then…” He closed his eyes again, a bit of remembered fear rising in him now. Even today, the idea of being with anyone other than Harry was enough to panic him, if only a little. “It took Blaise months to convince me it wasn’t bad to be touched. It’s because of him I can enjoy being your slave,” he said softly, meeting Harry’s gaze.

Harry hugged him close. “I haven’t thought of you as a slave since before Al’s birth, Draco. I would hope, if you didn’t want me, you would say so?”

“I want you,” Draco whispered, his voice strained. “I want you more than I want my freedom. You are my freedom, Harry.”

“Oh, Draco…” Harry kissed his temple. “Should we move this to the bed? Or would you like to relax in the tub?” he asked softly.

Curling up in the bed sounded perfect right about now. “Bed. Just… don’t let go?”

“Not ever,” Harry smiled. As if to prove the truth of his words, he lifted Draco in his arms, then carried him to the bed, setting him in the centre. He settled next to him, arms curling around him. “Do you need anything? Something to drink? Food?”

Draco shook his head. He wasn’t ready for Harry to let go yet, and his stomach didn’t feel steady enough for food, anyway. “In a bit. Just hold me.”

“Gladly.” Harry kissed his forehead.

After a moment, Draco met Harry’s eyes. “You’re not angry? That Blaise and I… that he showed me…?’

Harry drew him into a kiss. “How can I be angry about that? If he hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here in my arms, would you?”

Draco hugged him tight, unable to respond. He wanted to say that no matter what, he would have wanted to be here. Harry was right. He’d never have wanted to be touched by anyone if Blaise hadn’t showed him the pleasure there could be in the act. 

“I love you, Draco. Your past, no matter what happened in it, can never change that. Okay?”

Draco nodded, then shifted to kiss him. “You are an amazing man, Harry. I am very lucky I ended up here with you.”

“I think I’m the lucky one, Draco. That you came here. That I ever met you at all. And that you wish to stay here with me, in spite of everything you have been through.”

“Where else would I want to be?” Draco asked softly, then kissed him, clinging close. This was where he belonged.

«*»

It took Draco a few days to feel himself again, but spending time with Remus learning the tasks of the head slave helped a great deal. Harry began to visit his wives again, so Draco took the evenings Harry spent with them to start organizing things. A few of the other slaves complained it was favouritism, but he was quick to quash their complaints. Perhaps it had been, but he was also a good organizer, and he made certain to improve things for the slaves, making certain to check any major changes with Harry before implementing them. He was also gratified to actually have the chance to fix some of the things he’d always heard complaints about. This would be better for everyone.

A few weeks later, he returned from the Slave Quarter to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione arguing in Harry’s room.

“I won’t.”

“But you care for him, don’t you?”

Hermione flushed, but pointedly didn’t glance in Ron’s direction. “That has nothing to do with this. I won’t bring a child into this world who either sees his mother as little better than useless or a servant, or who will be forced someday to marry simply because she is told!”

“Hermione, I wouldn’t…” Ron began, but Harry stopped him.

“It’s not like that, Hermione, and you know it.”

“No. I don’t. Minerva is as wise as any of your counsellors. She helped to win the war. Yet you treat her as though her words have no weight or meaning.”

“I don’t! But giving her what she wants, Hermione… I don’t have enough support to manage to make such major a change yet. You know that! I haven’t even ruled here for ten years yet. There would be a rebellion if I tried!”

“Well, would it be so different if it were the women rebelling?”

“You and I know perfectly well not all women agree with this idea. Even in the Harem!”

“Some do, Harry. Our numbers are growing every day. Someday soon, you’ll have to appease us. Wouldn’t it be easier to do so now, rather than when you were forced to? You’d be seen as being progressive. People would love you.” Draco could tell she really believed it was true, but he knew this sort of change couldn’t happen overnight. It would take time.

“Hermione…”

“All I’m asking is that you talk to her. Try to find common ground. Give her a chance to state her case. Maybe between the two of you, you’ll be able to find a compromise. Please. Do this for me, and…” She drew herself up. “And I will agree to the wedding.”

Ron’s ears were growing red. “So… what? I’m not good enough for you?”

This time, she did turn to him. “Oh… Ron, no…”

“Yeah, well, how do you think it feels to me? To be held off like this? If you don’t want to marry me, say so!”

Draco flushed at the much more personal argument, wondering if he should go back to the Slave Quarters for a while. Then he saw Harry glance at him and hold a hand out to him. He moved into the room and took his hand, but didn’t look at the other two. He still wasn’t too sure he should be here.

“Ron, of course I want to marry you. But shouldn’t our daughters be given the same rights as our sons? Rather than being treated as property? Or slaves?”

Draco glanced at her sharply. 

Harry was the one who spoke, though. “You think I treat my slaves badly, Hermione?”

She went pink, then turned to Harry, flushing darker at the sight of Draco, who she obviously hadn’t seen enter. “No. Not everyone is you, though. And if a woman is a free woman, surely…”

“You’re asking too much,” Draco bit out. “Nothing comes all at once. Trust me. None of the women you know in the Harem have _ever_ been treated like a slave. That is a _far_ different thing.” Draco raised his chin. “You should be grateful they want to protect you. That he loves you enough to give you to a man who would do the same.”

She raised her chin as well. “Right. Be happy with my lot? Well, some of us can’t do that, Draco. Some of us have to hope for better.”

“Hermione!” Harry said sharply.

“No,” Draco told Harry, then glared at her. “You think I’m settling? Is that it?” 

“No, but…”

“I have two choices in this life. To be his, or to try and reclaim my family’s throne. To be his enemy, or to be with him. I am not settling. I am where I want to be. Our world has had too much conflict in our lives. We don’t need to stir up more.”

The words seemed to deflate her. “But we deserve…”

“To be happy. Will it make you happy to see him suffer as your friends tear down what he’s been trying to preserve?”

“No,” she said softly.

Harry gave Draco a squeeze to stop him before he could continue. “I will talk to her. But I can’t promise anything, Hermione. Our world isn’t ready. Not yet.”

“It is all I will ask. Once you’ve seen her, no matter the outcome…” She turned to Ron. “I’ll marry. If he’ll still have me.”

Ron’s expression softened. “Of course I will, Hermione. You’re the only one I want.”

She smiled at him softly. “I’m glad I haven’t completely messed it up, then.”

“Nah,” he said with a grin. “I’d have to be clonked on the head and dragged away to be kept from marrying you. Even if you _were_ a slave.”

She snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He took her hand, then kissed the back, smiling at her. “I’ll make you happy, Hermione. Whatever it takes.”

After Ron and another guard walked Hermione to the Women’s Quarters, Draco and Harry curled up on the bed together. “How are you doing, Draco?” Harry asked him softly. 

“I’m fine.”

“I didn’t mean for you to walk in on that. I was so sure she’d be happy."

“Yes, well, women make no sense to me, so…” He kissed Harry’s cheek. “I’m glad we’re able to be alone for a while.”

“Not as much as I’d like,” Harry sighed. “Luna’s coming tonight.”

Draco scowled. “Oh. Perhaps I’ll stay in the Slave Quarters tonight, then."

“You don’t have to.”

“I’d rather not… hear.”

Harry tugged him into a hug. “I’m sorry, Draco. I know it must be hard for you. I would hope that someday, it might not bother you.”

Draco doubted that would ever happen, but he knew he would always have to share Harry, so he kept that to himself, returning the hug.

“She did say she’d like to talk with you. Would you be willing to stay and have supper with us, at least?”

Draco struggled not to say no. He desperately wanted to, but Harry seemed so hopeful. “If you wish, sire.”

Harry sighed, then hugged him again. “You don’t have to stay any longer than that, okay?”

Draco nodded. “Thank you, sire.”

They curled around each other while they waited for Luna to appear, exchanging soft kisses. Draco could see Harry wanted to say something, but he kept putting it off by kissing him again, using every trick he knew to keep him from saying whatever it was and destroying the mood.

Luna arrived before the food, and Draco sat awkwardly in the centre of the bed, watching her as she greeted Harry, going on tiptoe to kiss him, then smiling as she turned toward the bed. “Draco. It is good to see you again. I just wanted to tell you—none of the rest of us feel the way Tracey did. I’m so sorry about what she tried to do to you.” She settled on the edge of the bed, her blue eyes wide with sincerity.

“Thank you,” Draco said awkwardly.

“I know how fond of you Harry is. We’re all glad he’s happy. That is all any of us wanted.”

“You don’t care that he’d rather be with me than any of you?” It was a little prideful of him, but part of him really did want to understand. Luna left him off kilter. If their roles were reversed, he’d have been horribly jealous.

She shook her head, smiling brightly. “Like I said. I want him to be happy.”

Draco flushed, glancing up at Harry, who was sitting in a chair and watching them now. He turned to Luna. “I’m glad I make him happy,” he finally managed.

“Will you be staying with us tonight?” she asked, and Draco felt his flush deepen.

“What?” He glanced at Harry again, then at Luna. “You mean… for supper?”

“Or more,” she said with a smile.

“Both? Together?” he asked, now glancing at Harry, who stood and settled at his side.

“I wouldn’t mind. And you can see Luna doesn’t. Neither would I insist you join us.” Harry looked cautiously optimistic.

Finally, Draco glanced at Luna. “Why?”

She smiled broadly. “You are beautiful together. What woman wouldn’t want to be part of such beauty, even if only for a night?”

It was hard to meet her eyes. “I…"

“Draco,” Harry said softly. “You don’t have to. I won’t be angry if you say no.”

Draco met his eyes. “I don’t know.” He’d not ever been interested in girls, that he could recall. He wasn’t sure if he could even manage to function with a girl around, let alone _with_ one. 

“Well, why don’t we eat, and talk, then decide after?” Harry asked, stroking his back.

Draco nodded. He turned to Luna, then smiled. “Thank you for…” Draco fished for something, not sure what he wanted to say. “… The compliment,” he finally settled on.

She smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said, then settled on one of the cushions at the table where their meal was all laid out. Harry and Draco joined her, and the three began to eat. 

At first, Draco listened as Harry and Luna spoke, but Luna was quick to draw him into their conversation, asking him questions which he answered, haltingly to begin with, but soon with more confidence as they continued to talk. By the end of the meal, he was a good deal more relaxed with her, and was able to return her warm smiles.

She stood and walked to the bed, then let her robe slide to the floor, leaving behind only a flimsy bodice and thin, gauzy trousers. Apparently, she had decided to get on with the next part of the evening.

Draco flushed and glanced away, his eyes falling on Harry, who was watching him. “So will you join us tonight, Draco? Or should I walk you to the guard and kiss you good-night for the evening?”

It was suddenly hard to think. To be given the opportunity to be with Harry tonight. But not only. Draco glanced at the bed, where Luna was stretched out on the top of the sheets, not watching. There was no sense of necessity. Just possibility. He turned to Harry. “This would not bother you?” he asked, soft enough so Luna would not be able to hear.

Harry smiled. “No. I’d like to be with both of you. But it’s not something you are required to do, Draco. I want you to be comfortable. No matter what you decide.”

The words helped. Draco shifted close enough to kiss him. “Then I’d like to stay,” he said, loud enough now for Luna to hear.

Harry beamed at him. “Well, then. We shouldn’t keep the lady waiting.” He stood and held out a hand to Draco, who took it before rising to his feet, and together, the two men moved to the bed, where Luna was sitting up and watching them approach.


	8. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of Harry and Draco's tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning here for het, if that squicks you. Also, there is an epilogue to come.
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely comments and Kudos, and I'm so glad you enjoyed the story.

Suddenly, it was as though they were at the beginning of the meal once more. Draco knew how to touch Harry, or any man, really—but he’d never even kissed a girl. Worse, watching Harry kiss Luna made his stomach churn.

He found himself at the edge of the bed, watching them and feeling awkward. Finally, Luna turned away from Harry, and held out a hand to Draco. “Don’t be shy. I won’t bite.”

Harry turned to tug him close, pulling him into a soft kiss. “You okay, Draco? You really don’t have to do this.”

“No. I… want to. I just don’t know what to do.”

Luna smiled. “Then you should lie down. Let us do the work.”

Draco flushed at the idea, then glanced at Harry, who was smiling, his eyes gleaming. “Let us take care of you, love.”

“All right,” he whispered, kissing him before stretching out on his back.

Luna’s hands settled on his chest, and he jumped at the touch. “Tell me if you don’t like what I’m doing, all right?” she asked.

Draco nodded.

She leaned in to kiss him, and even as she did, he felt Harry’s hand stroking over his side, lips moving lightly over his shoulder. Draco let the familiarity of Harry’s kisses and touches relax him, bringing his hand up to lightly set in the small of Luna’s back as they kissed. He found himself moaning in her mouth as Harry’s fingers found his nipple and tugged at it.

When the kiss ended, her eyes were sparkling, and her lips swollen. “Oh… you are good,” she said. Rather than let him answer, she dove in for another kiss, her hand guiding his to one of her breasts. The feeling was odd. Not something Draco was used to at all, and he stiffened, though he didn’t pull away. Harry tugged at his nipple again, and encouraged by the touch, he gave the soft flesh a gentle squeeze. This time, it was Luna’s turn to moan. 

The sound gave Draco more confidence, and he squeezed again, shifting to press against Harry and pulling Luna against him so he could slide a hand down her back as the other played with a nipple. She arched against him at the touch. “Oh… yes… like that.”

Harry nuzzled Draco’s ear. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Draco flushed, watching as each of his touches made her arch and moan. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Only wish I had the ability to fuck you both at once. It truly is a shame. She has a lovely mouth. Perhaps you could play with her while I fucked her, then we could use our mouths on you after?”

Draco moaned at the image, and Luna joined him. “Oh, yes, please,” she said, shifting to kiss Harry. “Want to feel you inside me, Harry.”

For some reason, the words made Draco moan even as he heard Harry groan behind him. Perhaps it was because he felt Harry’s cock grow harder against his arse at them. He nuzzled at her throat, and when she turned away, he tugged her down into a kiss. “Let me hold you while he makes love to you?”

Her eyes were now dark with pleasure. “I would like that very much, Draco. You’re good with your hands.” They kissed again as Harry settled back, and Draco rolled to his back, pulling Luna on top of him, her legs straddling his hips. He gasped as he felt her brush his cock, hot and damp from arousal. To keep himself from coming at the feeling, he focused on Harry, who was settling himself between his legs and brushing his fingers over Luna’s arse.

“Should I let you have her someday, Draco? Let you feel her hot and wet around you?” Harry’s voice was dark, and heady with promise. Draco’s breath caught, and he had to close his eyes, his head spinning with the idea. Would it feel good? She was sucking at his collar bone, and humming pleasantly in a way that made all his nerves sing. 

His voice was breathless when he finally answered. “If my Sultan wishes. Would you… like that, sire?”

“I would,” Luna said, shifting to kiss him once more.

Harry chuckled. “I think it would be a beautiful sight.” 

Draco opened his eyes to meet Harry’s, stroking down Luna’s back, and watching as Harry pushed gently into her, feeling her moan against his neck. “Feels so good, doesn’t he?” he asked her softly. “No better feeling.”

“None,” she moaned, pressing against Harry, whose eyes were still on Draco’s, his fingers curling around her hips as he began to move.

Draco drew a hand slowly up Luna’s spine, pulling her into another kiss. He slid his hand over her skin, sliding it up to stroke her breast once more, the soft flesh filling his hand, his fingers plucking at her nipple in time with Harry’s thrusts.

She was arching and moaning between them, her kisses more desperate as Harry moved faster inside her. 

Harry caught Draco’s free hand, drawing it to her cunt, and after a pause, Draco rubbed his fingers lightly over the soft, wet mound, gasping as her cries took on new intensity, his own cock throbbing at the sound as she gave a sharp cry, then shuddered against him. Draco flushed, holding her close as Harry’s thrusts increased again, and watched as Harry thrust once hard into her and groaned. 

He felt like he wouldn’t be too far behind, his whole body electric with the feeling of holding her soft and pliant in his arms, and the sight of Harry’s pleasure, seen in a way he’d never managed before.

Harry stretched out next to Draco, then drew him close. Draco’s arms were still curled around Luna, and the three seemed to melt together for a moment. “God…” Harry whispered.

Draco nodded, and Luna murmured in agreement, then shifted enough to be able to kiss Harry. “That was wonderful, Harry.”

“Mmm… but I think someone else needs some help. You up to that, Luna?”

She turned to Draco and beamed at him. “Oh, yes. If you’re willing?”

“Please,” he said, the word shaky and soft.

Luna slid down his body, and with Harry nuzzling at his neck and ear, and her hot, wet mouth around his cock, it wasn’t long before he was coming as well, pressing back hard against Harry as his climax washed over him.

Afterwards, cleaned off quickly with a damp cloth, the three of them curled around each other, and fell into a happy, peaceful sleep.

«*»

The next few weeks were filled with meetings for Harry, and Draco spent a great deal of time in the slave quarters. A fresh batch of new slaves had arrived. Three young men who appeared as lost as he had felt when he’d arrived. He made sure to team each up with other slaves he trusted to help them through their first days here. He also insisted on a few more comforts for the slaves over all. After all, they all deserved to be as happy as he was now.

The evenings he wasn’t in Harry’s bed were spent reading and catching up on things he’d missed from the outside world, now that he had access to them. The nights he spent with Harry were full of all the passion he’d come to expect from Harry. It was a comfortable existence.

When plans were bandied about for Hermione and Ron’s wedding, Draco insisted Harry make certain the slaves were given some chance to partake in the feast, either before they were to serve or entertain, or afterwards in their own Quarters. After all, they were as much a part of his household as any of his courtiers. Harry made certain there would be a small version of the feast set up in the Slave Quarters at lunch, so they would all get the opportunity to fill up before their duties for the evening.

Even with the palace in an uproar, things seemed to fall into a pattern, and though it took him a while, Draco realized he was content. He’d known he was happy from the moment Harry had asked him to be his pet, but this was something else altogether. The palace had become home.

One lazy morning, Draco was nuzzling Harry’s neck while he read something out loud, when a knock came at the door. Draco glanced up as Harry called out for whoever it was to come in. 

Kingsley entered the room, bowing low to Harry when he saw him. “Sire. They have been found.”

The words meant nothing to Draco, but apparently to Harry, they meant everything. He sat up straighter, his arm tightening around Draco. “You’re sure?” he asked Kingsley, who nodded, smiling.

“Yes, sire. Positive. I went to see them myself. They should arrive within the week.”

Draco looked back and forth between the two men, wondering whose discovery would please Harry so. Perhaps a last group of dissidents from the war?

“Thank you, Kingsley. Inform me as soon as they arrive. And excellent work.”

Kingsley bowed once more before leaving the room.

Draco waited for Harry to tell him what it was about. After all, there were still state secrets he was not allowed to know. Harry gave him a tight hug. “They found them, Draco,” Harry said, his smile wide, his eyes sparkling.

When Harry didn’t elaborate after a moment, Draco frowned. “Found who, sire?”

Harry’s smile widened into a grin. “Your parents.’

It was like being doused with freezing water. Yes, he’d wanted to see them. But that had been when he had been uncertain of his fate, still feeling lost and alone. He still wanted to see them even now, but things had changed enough for him to be aware of how his father would see his position. “M-my… p-p-” he spluttered.

“Your parents, Draco. I’ve had men searching for them this whole time.” He brushed some hair from Draco’s face.

Overwhelmed, Draco curled tighter around him, his father’s face suddenly sharp in his mind, remembering how cutting he had always been when Draco had gotten up to things he had disapproved of. This, he would most distinctly disapprove of. “Oh, god…”

“Draco?” Harry asked, his voice soft and concerned. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I… I am. But… what if they hate me? For my choices?”

Harry’s arms tightened around him. “Oh, Draco.” He kissed Draco’s forehead. “I’m sure they won’t. They’re your parents. They love you.”

“We were your enemy. What if father…”

“It’s all right, Draco.” Harry lifted his chin gently. “I swear to you, whatever happens, it will be okay.” He kissed him. 

Draco sighed. “Thank you, Harry.” He wasn’t entirely sure it was, but so long as Harry was there after, he’d be okay.

“I just want you to be happy, Draco.”

“I am.” Draco was quiet for a minute. “Will you be there? When I meet them?” he asked after a moment.

“If you’d like. You wouldn’t have been alone with them, if that’s what worries you.”

“No. I just… I would feel better if you were there,” he said softly.

“Then I will be,” Harry said, kissing him again. “I should send a letter to Severus.”

“Snape? Why?”

“Because he can offer them a place. I asked him before he and Blaise left if he would be willing to take them in when they were found. I didn’t think they’d want to stay here in the palace, but seeing as they know him, I’d hoped they might be slightly more comfortable with him.”

Draco laughed ruefully. “That should be interesting, at the very least. Still, it’s probably better than other alternatives, I suppose.”

“I hope so. I don’t want them making you miserable simply because they are, after all.”

Draco knew that was the true reason they wouldn’t be staying here in the palace. So they wouldn’t be able to pester him every day. He hugged Harry tight. “Thank you. So much. You’re so good to me.”

“It’s my pleasure, Draco. I’m glad you came here. Until you were here with me, it was all duty. You make it worth everything else I have to deal with.”

“Do I?”

Harry smiled, then kissed him, lingering but undemanding. “You do,” he whispered. “Every day.”

Draco set his head on Harry’s shoulder. Things were just how they were supposed to be.

«*»

In less than three days, Draco found himself waiting in a side room off Harry’s throne room for his parents to appear. He had swung between dreading it and anticipating it since he’d heard, but now, all he could feel was nerves coursing through him. What if they turned their backs on him? Would he be able to handle that, even if he had Harry to care for him?

He started as the door opened, and Harry came in, followed by two guards who flanked his parents. They looked worn and tired, but they were still recognizably his parents, and the little boy in him yearned to run to them and hug them close. Instead, he held himself back, waiting for their response.

He didn’t have to wait long. When his mother caught sight of him, her eyes went wide, and she hurried forward, her arms curling tight around him. “Draco. Oh… my little Draco. I feared…” He could feel her tears on his shoulder, and hugged her close.

“I’m fine, mother. Just fine,” he whispered. “It is good to see you. Both of you,” he added, looking up to meet his father’s gaze. He’d seen astonishment there for a moment before his mother had hurried forward, but now he could see him taking in all of Draco, and Draco felt his cheeks flush, feeling the weight of his father’s displeasure even without the words to back it up.

“You seem to be doing… well,” Lucius finally said.

“My lot has improved of late,” Draco said, resisting the urge to swallow, his chin raising under his father’s cool gaze.

“Has it? Dare I ask how?” The words were edged with distaste.

“I have been made head slave, father.”

“Head slave,” Lucius sneered. “Of course. And that is the reason you wear the most expensive of silks, and look as though you eat regularly, no other reason?”

Apparently, that was too much for Harry not to answer. “I take good care of my slaves, Lucius,” he said, his tone stern, as though he were reprimanding a schoolboy.

Lucius turned slowly to Harry. “Do you? All of them, or just the ones you use as playthings?” he sneered.

Harry stepped closer, his eyes flashing. “It is a very good thing for you I don’t want to upset Draco today, Lucius. It is because of him you will be granted clemency from this life you have landed your family in. Perhaps you haven’t yet learned your lesson? Wasn’t it enough your family was nearly destroyed by your pride?”

“You are a fool,” Lucius growled. “You are a child, and someday soon, you will learn…”

“Learn what? What it feels like to have everything taken from me? I learned that a long time ago. And I found myself here. It has made me a better man. Perhaps I was a fool to think it would do the same for you after seeing what it did to your wife and son.”

“Harry, please,” Draco begged, moving away from his mother to try to step between them.

Harry turned to him. “I’m sorry, Draco. It angers me, though. To see him treat you that way. He should be pleased you are safe and happy, despite what happened.”

“I am,” Draco assured him, then turned to his father. “Very happy. In a way I haven’t been since…” Draco searched for a time when he had last been content and felt safe. “Since before the war,” he decided on.

“Happy. Being the catamite to the Sultan of a country responsible for the destruction of your own land?”

“He didn’t! You did that!” Draco was shocked at the vehemence of his own shout, and he flushed and bowed his head. “You destroyed us.” He met his father’s eyes once more. “Fighting him.”

“Is that so?” Lucius said, his sneer growing deeper. “Is that my son talking, or his slave?”

“Your son,” Draco said, his chin rising. “The one who ended up…” He shuddered, but pushed on. “Who ended up in the hands of a sadistic bastard who took great joy in breaking him. Harry put me back together.”

“You don’t think ‘Harry’ planned it that way?”

“No! Because Harry wasn’t in control of his country then. And because I know exactly how he feels about slavery.”

“Of course you do. Because he wouldn’t tell you exactly what you wanted to hear, now, would he?”

“No. He wouldn’t. He knew he didn’t have to. Not to have me. He had me already.”

Lucius looked ill at the pronouncement. “What of our family, Draco? Don’t you care what he’s done to us? That our line will end with you?”

“He didn’t do that. Your choices led us here, not his.”

“Who said it would?” Harry’s hand settled in the small of Draco’s back, and Draco turned to him, startled at the words. What did Harry mean?”

“I hardly want a grandson raised as a slave,” Lucius snarled.

“He wouldn’t be. He would be raised as my son.”

Lucius snorted. “That is _just_ as bad.”

Draco, though, was astonished. Narcissa seemed to disagree with her husband, too. “Why would you do that?” she asked.

Harry turned to Draco. “Because I love your son.” He stroked Draco’s cheek, then turned to Narcissa. “So long as I need not fear attack from him, I see no reason he should not reclaim your kingdom.”

“And be your lackey, you mean?” Lucius growled. “That’s no better than where we are now.”

Draco disagreed. “You mean that?”

Harry nodded. “I’ve been considering it for a while now, actually. If he were raised with my sons, they would be friends. No need to go to war, right?”

“You’re more of a fool than I thought.”

Glancing at Lucius, Harry snorted. “Well, seeing as it’s not your choice, your thoughts don’t much matter, do they?”

Lucius scowled and turned away.

It hurt, but at the same time, Harry was offering him so much. “Thank you.”

Harry nodded. “We can discuss it later.”

Draco nodded and turned to his parents, their future suddenly a great deal brighter than even he had expected.

Despite Lucius’s initial sourness, once they moved past the argument, their visit went well. Draco told his mother about his duties as Head Slave, and soon, Lucius was asking questions about his life at the palace as well, and the three talked for over an hour before Snape appeared. 

Draco hadn’t seen him since he and Blaise had left the palace, but he couldn’t deny that his father’s old friend looked not only calmer, but happier.

Lucius’s reaction at Snape’s appearance, though, was astonishment. “Severus? You seem well.” He tilted his head. “I would have thought you would have ended up dead in the war. You seem to have prospered.”

Smirking, Snape nodded. “All a matter of knowing where the chips are falling, Lucius. I did tell you that you were on a foolhardy path. But then, you always did think you knew better than anyone else, didn’t you?”

Lucius scowled. “I see. So you sold your beliefs for safety, is that it?”

“Actually, I discovered the things I was fighting for were not what I thought they were. Nor do I regret helping Harry defend his throne.”

“Of course not. After all, you seem to have retained all your rights, haven’t you?”

“I have. Not only that, but it also means I am able to help out old friends in need.”

To others, the astonishment on Lucius’s face might not have been discernible, but Draco saw it as plainly as the disgust he’d seen before.

“You would be able to help us?” Lucius glanced slowly towards Harry, who had retreated to the far side of the room after the fight to let Draco visit with his parents. 

Harry nodded, then came closer. “I hoped you might be more comfortable in Severus’s service than elsewhere. For Draco’s sake, I thought it would be nice to have you somewhere where he could easily contact you. You do not have to accept, of course. I cannot afford to free you. You were far too prominent in the fight against me. This way, you can at least be in the service of someone familiar.”

Lucius’s astonishment was far more clear at Harry’s words. “Why?” 

Moving to put his arm around Draco, Harry gave him a squeeze. “I told you. I love your son. I would do a great deal to make him happy.”

“Even let our line regain our kingdom?” Lucius asked him after a moment, obviously seeing the offer in a very different light than before.

Harry nodded. “Yes.”

“So, Lucius. Will you be joining your wife and myself, or…?” Snape asked.

Lucius scowled at him, but soon he sighed. “Very well.” He turned to Draco and smiled, though it looked as though the expression were painful. “I suppose we will be speaking soon.”

“As soon as I can send a letter, I will,” Draco assured him.

“Good. I am glad. That you are well, I mean. Your mother was not the only one worried for your fate.”

The words made Draco’s heart swell. “Thank you, father.”

Lucius nodded once, then turned to Snape. “Well? Shall we go?”

Snape smirked. “Of course, Lucius.” He led the way from the room, but Draco couldn’t help wonder if the man might not already be regretting his offer. Lucius would be a difficult servant at best. Still, he hid his smile until they left the room.

Harry and Draco left by another door and made their way to the Sultan’s rooms, both lost in their own thoughts. Once there, Harry asked the guard to have lunch brought, then nudged Draco to the cushions so they could get comfortable. “How are you doing?” he asked him softly, once Draco was settled on his lap.

Draco shrugged. “All right. It wasn’t as bad as it might have been.”

“No?”

“Father could have been far worse.”

“Maybe his experiences have mellowed him a bit.”

Draco snorted. “Did he sound mellowed? No, but he did seem pleased I was not lost, at least.”

Harry gave him a gentle squeeze. “Yes, he did.”

Draco was silent for a while, then glanced up at Harry. “Did you really mean what you said? About letting me have a son?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “If you wanted it. My only request would be that it be with one of my wives. It will be easier to grant him the access I wish if he can be legally seen as my son.”

The thought that Harry would allow Draco not just to please one of his wives, but actually allow her to carry his child was astonishing. It took Draco a moment to find the words to express himself. “Really? I would think you would not want to share them with anyone.”

Harry smirked. “I can think of a few who would be quite willing to share our bed, Draco.” His fingers stroked over Draco’s cheek. “You’re the one I’m loathe to share, my love.”

It was enough to make Draco’s head spin. Instead of answering, he pressed a kiss to Harry’s lips, hugging him tight. “I love you,” he whispered against Harry’s lips. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Draco. For coming to me in hopes of finding someone who could win your heart. And for deciding I was that one. It is the greatest honour I can think of,” Harry whispered.

«*»

Weeks of negotiation followed, and Draco saw even less of Harry as he worked to get Minerva to agree to some sort of compromise which would please her and still keep his ministers from rebelling against him.

Nights found Harry barely able to kiss Draco good night before he fell into an exhausted sleep, but Draco was grateful to be able to hold him while he slept. 

More time was spent with Harry’s wives. Some were still standoffish, but others were not only kind, but pleasant. Tonks, Susan, and Luna, in particular, seemed quite fond of him. Still, Draco felt most comfortable waiting until Harry was done negotiating with Minerva. Perhaps he had changed his mind. He wasn’t about to make a choice until he could discuss it with Harry.

Finally, halfway through a day, Draco was organizing the assignments for the slaves that evening, when Ron came to see him.

“Harry wants to see you.”

Draco looked up from his desk, worried. “Is something wrong?” He stood and moved to Ron’s side.

Ron smiled and shook his head. “No. I think he and Minerva have finally decided on something that should please most people. Which means the wedding is on.” The smile turned to a grin. “About time, too. I was beginning to wonder if I would be older than Dumbledore was before we got to marry.”

Draco chuckled. “Congratulations, then. Is he in his rooms?”

Ron nodded. “Come on. I’ll walk you there.”

“Let me hand these off to Oliver so he can hand them out tonight.” He picked up the sheet he’d been working on, and handed it to the guard who was standing at the doorway of the Slave Quarters. “That should please most of them,” he said with a smile.

“I’ll make sure they’re properly appreciative, Draco,” Oliver said with a grin.

“You do that,” Draco grinned back. His task accomplished, he turned to Ron. “Lead the way. That was the last of it.”

“You seem to have settled into the job well enough. I always thought Remus was good at this stuff, but you’ve actually decreased the amount of complaints from both the slaves and the guests.”

“I do my best,” Draco said, rather pleased to hear it. “How goes your training?”

“There’s a lot to learn, but it’s going pretty well. The Minister thinks I should be able to take over for him before the year is out.”

“I’m glad to hear it. You’re a good man. I’m sure you and Hermione will be very happy.”

“Thank you.”

Before Draco knew it, they were at Harry’s rooms, and he thanked Ron, then entered the rooms to find Harry hunched over his desk, squinting at the scroll in front of him. With a soft smile, Draco stepped behind him and began gently rubbing his temples. “Silly man. You really should let me read those for you. You always end up with headaches when you don’t.”

Harry sighed happily, then let his head fall back to give Draco better access. “Silly, yes. But required. I have to sign this agreement we’ve been working on, or all these meetings will have come to nothing.”

“I suppose you’ll have to upgrade my title to personal assistant, then. So I can be with you in those meetings of yours,” Draco said.

Harry laughed. “Perhaps I’ll have to do that. After I’ve ravished you, of course.” He turned in his chair, tugging Draco down onto his lap. “So… are you free for the rest of your life?”

“I’ve been yours all along, love.” Draco kissed him softly. “So how did you negotiate her into submission?”

This time, Harry’s laugh was one of derision. “I’m afraid she’s the one who negotiated me into submission. I’m going to have a new Minister come morning.”

“You made her a Minister? Won’t the others object?”

“No. We’ve got it worked out so it won’t infringe on any of their areas of expertise. At least, not until it’s too late for them to do anything about it,” Harry said. “I do think she’ll be good for the country.”

“What will she be Minister of?”

“Health and welfare. She wanted education, but… too close to a few of the others’ purviews. She’ll have to negotiate with them all from the first, I think. Sharp woman. Old enough to be both of our grandmothers, and still quick enough to catch all the slipperiest catches I could manage.”

“I guess it’s a new world, then.” He kissed Harry again. “So now that you have been beaten into submission, what next?”

Harry grinned, then got to his feet, Draco still in his arms. “I plan to spend the rest of my day lazing about in bed. Or something of that sort,” he said with a wink, setting Draco on the bed and kissing him hungrily. “It’s been far too long,” he whispered.

“Yes,” Draco agreed, his hands already working to undo the buttons of Harry’s robe. “Need to feel your skin against mine.”

“God, yes,” Harry groaned, kissing him again, helping to remove both their clothes before settling on top of Draco. “Need you.” His hands stroked down Draco’s chest, pinching a nipple, then sucking at the other, and making Draco writhe under him. “So much.”

“Yours,” Draco breathed. “Take me.”

Nodding, Harry reached for the lube, and as soon as he could, he was pressing into Draco. “So tight,” he whispered. “So perfect.”

“Meant for you. More. Need you.”

Harry thrust deep, grinding into him, then rocked his hips back and began a pattern of quick, hard thrusts that robbed Draco of all sense. He clung to Harry, crying out sharply as he felt Harry’s hand curl around his cock. With another thrust, he came. Wailing and arching against Harry, and only vaguely felt Harry’s release deep inside him shortly after.

Clinging tight to each other, the two men panted in the aftermath, whispers of love passed back and forth between them for a time before they pulled apart and cleaned each other gently. Afterwords, they curled around each other and were soon fast asleep.

The world could wait. For now, all they needed was each other.


	9. Epliogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they all (or most of them, anyway) lived happily ever after.

Years passed, as they always do. Harry and Draco grew older—together. Harry became known as the best Sultan in centuries. Benevolent, caring, and strong. His people never wanted for anything. Albion was one of the first to allow women to come into their own right. Now women were as likely to be shopkeepers or healers as wives, and it was not an uncommon sight to see men and women walking side by side in public. It had taken time, but eventually everyone agreed it was a good change.

New slaves were now outlawed in Albion, as well, and the trade in human lives illegal. There were still a small handful of older slaves remaining in households throughout the land, but they were more part of the families they served, or otherwise treasured servants. Then there were those like Draco, who had become something more. He stood only behind Harry’s Ministers as his most trusted adviser. He was always at Harry’s side in the throne room, keeping track of his appointments and his daily schedule. And always in his bed at night, even if it was for nothing more than sleep.

As Harry’s children had grown up and found their places in his court and land, most of Harry’s wives left the palace for their own homes. Each had been given their own smaller castle, and all seemed comfortable and happy with the lives Harry provided for them. Draco was quite pleased not to have to share his time with the Sultan any longer.

Prince James, now old enough to take on some of the reins of the country, was quickly becoming known for shockingly adroit ideas when he attended council meetings. He was still young, of course, and had also developed a taste for parties and beautiful women, causing more than one scandal, but so far, Harry and Draco had managed to keep any unplanned children from appearing. Still, he stood in good stead to become the next sultan when Harry decided to retire, and Draco had begun to think that might even happen before the two of them felt truly old. He was very much looking forward to it.

As he was looking forward to the return of his son, and of young Albus. The two had been fostered by Snape when they reached the age to do so, and each visit, the changes were more and more obvious. Now, though, their fostering was at an end. The two young men—for truly, they were about the same ages Draco and Harry had been when they began to spend time together—would spend a few days, perhaps a week or two with their family. Then after, Albus and Scorpius would set off for Malus to put the country to rights. Draco’s cousin Theo had been caring for it in Scorpius’s name, though caring for was perhaps too generous a term. Still, Draco knew his people would accept his son as a savior easily after the fumbling mismanagement of his cousin the last eighteen years. 

It was strange to think the last time Draco had seen his son, he was but a boy, but now he was a man. A man who would return to their kingdom and restore it to the glory Draco remembered from his youth. From before the war. He was greatly anticipating visiting with Harry as soon as the boys had it under control. Unable to stop himself, after hours of distracted and absent-minded work, he finally gave up on his work and climbed one of the towers to see if he could catch sight of the boys coming home. He was only there for about ten minutes when Harry appeared and slid his arms around Draco’s waist. “They’ll be here soon enough, pet.” He pressed a soft kiss to Draco’s cheek, and Draco smiled.

“I know. I can’t believe he’s all grown up.”

“Mmm. Yes. Danielle will be ten this winter. I can’t believe how fast they grow.”

Draco turned his face into Harry’s neck, inhaling his scent, not wanting to think of how soon it would be before even she, Harry’s youngest, would soon be out and about in the world. “At least they’ll do you justice. You are an amazing father, Harry.”

“As are you, my love.” Harry turned him in his arms and kissed him.

“Love you,” Draco whispered. “Did they say when they expected to be here?”

“Shortly, I’d imagine. Albus said he wanted to be here by supper. You know him. Food is the most important thing in the world, after all.” He winked at Draco, who laughed.

“Followed by sleep, yes. I remember.” He sighed. “It will be good to see them again.”

“Yes. I imagine they’ll have all sorts of things to share with us,” Harry said, and Draco thought he saw a smirk on Harry’s face for a moment, but it was too quickly gone for Draco to be certain.

“So long as they stay at least a week. I’m sure father has talked them through many things, but…”

“But you want more time with him before you lose him to the country he is about to lead?”

“Something like that,” Draco agreed.

“Well, then you’re in luck. Luna insisted they stay for at least that long. You know Scorpius. He never could resist any of his mother’s requests.” Harry’s eyes shone.

“True,” Draco said, smiling back. 

There was a sudden clatter in the courtyard, and Draco hurried to the edge of the tower and looked down into the courtyard. “They’re here!”

“We should prepare them a proper greeting, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes.”

Harry took Draco’s hand, and together the two men made their way to the throne room, separating only when they reached the door to enter the room. Harry settled in his throne, and Draco stood right behind his left shoulder, watching impatiently for their sons to enter. Courtiers filled the room soon after, and the throne room was quite crowded when the boys finally appeared, shoulder to shoulder, grinning and shaking hands and hugging those who greeted them. It was hard to hide a smile at the sight, but Draco did his best.

Harry stood, waiting for both to face him before he spoke, smiling at each of them. “Welcome home, my sons. We have glowing reports from Severus stating if he kept you in his castle any longer, his people would be deserting him for you soon.”

Both boys laughed. “Well, you know Severus, father,” Albus said with a grin. “Always so generous with his compliments.”

Draco smirked. Snape had hardly mellowed with age at all. Except for when it came to his consort, of course, who could make him melt with a glance. Draco had never once regretted making certain his friend was happy. Even less so when he had finally seen the two of them together at last. They visited each year for the midwinter holidays, and Draco had yet to see his friend approach the doldrums he remembered from their time together in the Slave Quarters.

“Of course. Because he always was so generous to me when he was my tutor,” Harry said, laughing as well. “But I am pleased to see he has taken such good care of you. We have all missed your presence greatly. It is too bad you will not be able to stay for long.”

Scorpius smiled. “We only hope we will be able to spend time with our family. We have missed you all.” He shot a glance over Harry’s shoulder for a moment, and Draco returned the smile. Despite Scorpius’s shining blond hair, few beyond the immediate family were aware Scorpius was his son. The populace assumed his hair had been inherited from his mother, but the rest of Harry’s extended family had always known who he was; in particular, it had never been a secret from Harry’s children, though they had never failed to treat him as one of them. Draco had spent many happy hours with his son when he’d been a boy, and he owed it all to Harry’s generosity. 

“Well, I do know your mother has plans to dominate your time as much as I will allow her. She has missed you.”

The soft, sad look that crossed Scorpius’s face was echoed in Draco’s heart. If ever he had loved a woman, it was Luna. She had caught him by surprise, never failing to include him when she could, and he had, on occasion, returned the favour. He and Harry had shared their bed with a few other of Harry’s wives, but Luna had been the only one who joined them more than once.

Luna was the only one of Harry’s wives who remained in the palace now. As lithe as she once was, though, she was now frail. A fall had healed badly, and a bout of pneumonia shortly after left her weak. Not yet forty, and the healers said without some sort of miracle, she would not see fifty. Harry and Draco spent as much time with her as they could, one on either side of her some nights, holding her while she slept. 

Scorpius blamed himself for not being here for her, though they all assured him there was nothing he would have been able to do had he been at the palace. All they could do now was keep her as happy and comfortable as possible.

“I thought perhaps Draco could take you to spend some time with your mother while Albus and I caught up on a few things?” Harry asked Scorpius now, his voice softer.

“I’d like that,” Scorpius said with a nod. “Thank you, father.”

“This way, Scorpius. She should be with us momentarily,” Draco said, shooting Harry a thank you glance before leading his son to one of the side rooms.

As soon as the door closed behind them, all pretense was dropped.

“Father. It’s so good to see you again. You are looking well.”

“I am… comfortable. I do hope father wasn’t too acerbic in his good-byes?”

Scorpius laughed softly. “The same as always. I think he misses you.”

“Perhaps I will have to persuade Harry to take me on a short trip sometime soon.” Before his father was gone. It was, Draco was coming to discover, one of the worst parts about growing older. Not losing people by war or through lost contact, but through the slow attrition of natural death which occurred to everyone sooner or later.

“I think he’d like that,” Scorpius said. “Just ignore his protestations about Harry. I think he’s come to be almost fond of him. Though you’ll never catch him admitting it.”

Draco laughed. “Yes, that does sound like him. I suppose he loaded you down with all sorts of advice about Malus?”

“Of course. How to get things under control. I was good, and made certain not to remind him he was the one who lost the kingdom in the first place.”

“Scorpius,” Draco chided.

“I didn’t. I swear. You can ask Al.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “What did I tell you about calling him that? It’s so… common.”

“He likes it,” Scorpius said softly.

“And you will be king. You need to learn. Such things will easily trip you up, Scorpius.”

“I wouldn’t call him that in public, father.”

Draco sighed. “Very well.” Perhaps a change of topic was in order. “I suppose mother is trying already to find you a suitable wife?” he asked.

From the look on Scorpius’s face at the question, he’d hit too close to a sore subject. “She’s been throwing girls at me left and right. I’m just pleased there aren’t many girls of noble birth in Severus’s area. It would have been far worse.” He moved to the sofa, running his fingers over the fabric, lost in thought.

If Draco didn’t know better, he would have guessed Scorpius already had someone in mind. His wistful look was quite familiar. “You didn’t like any of them?”

“No. I…” He looked down and swallowed.

“You already have someone in mind?” Draco felt his heart clench. Had Scorpius focused on one of Harry’s daughters for his affections? That could be disastrous. 

Scorpius met his father’s eyes, and Draco could see him steeling himself. Obviously, he expected an argument. No, this was most definitely not good.

“Scorpius, whoever she is…”

“No, father, please… listen, first? Before you lecture me? We’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Is that the royal we?” Draco asked, scowling.

“No. He and I…”

Oh, this was not good. It was one thing for Harry to have Draco in the background, but like Albion, Malus had now outlawed slavery. Scorpius wouldn’t have the freedom of bringing pretty boys to his bed when he felt like it. “He? Scorpius, you can’t possibly think your people will allow…”

“I told you! Just listen. Please! He and I have talked this over. We’ve seen you and Harry, and we know we can be discrete…”

“Can you? Dare I ask? Some servant boy?”

“No. I…”

But before Scorpius could say more, the door on the opposite end of the room opened, and Luna came in, carefully supported by her personal attendant, Hannah, and one of the guards.

“Scorpius.” As weak as Luna was physically, her voice had grown stronger over the years, as though her spirit had taken hold there.

Scorpius glanced warily at his father, then turned to her with a smile. “Mother.” He moved across the room and helped her to settle in a chair. “How are you feeling?”

“You’re not to worry about me while you visit, Little Star. I’m fine.”

“Mother, I wish you wouldn’t call me that any longer. I’m not a baby any more.”

“You will always be my baby,” she said, slender fingers pushing the hair from his face. “Has your brother been taking good care of you?”

Scorpius smiled. “Yes. He always seems to be able to keep me out of trouble.”

“Good,” Luna said with a serene smile. “You look so much like your father.” She turned to Draco. “What things are you lecturing him on now, Draco? I heard your tone when we came in.”

“He’s been keeping secrets,” Draco said, moving to place a kiss on her forehead. 

“Our boy is very good at that,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mirth. She turned to Scorpius. “So the two of you finally told him at last?”

“Not all of it yet. He keeps interrupting.” Scorpius shot his father a scowl. “And if you would listen…”

“You are going to regain our family’s honour, Scorpius. You can’t afford any mistakes.”

“We’ve got it all planned. It will work.”

“Do you? How will it work when the woman you marry to carry your heir decides to spread the rumour you prefer your catamite’s bed to hers?” Draco’s voice was rising with every word, his worry growing at his son’s insistence that this wasn’t a big deal.

“Al is _not_ a catamite!”

Draco’s eyes went round. “Al?” Harry’s second son? But Scorpius couldn’t mean him, could he? They’d been raised as brothers! Even as Draco’s mind reeled at the idea, he also realized it made a great deal of sense. The two boys had always been so close. “But…”

“I love him, father. Just like you love the Sultan. He was already coming to help me anyway. No one will be shocked if we spend hours or evenings together.”

Draco couldn’t help thinking the boys had somehow manipulated things exactly how they wanted them. Yet it was true, the way things were now, no one would question Scorpius’s dependence on his brother. For some reason, though, that didn’t help Draco feel any better.

“What if someone finds out, Scorpius? What if…”

Luna’s hand on his arm stopped the flow of words far quicker than words would have. “What if they are successful, Draco? The two of you have always bemoaned how these two always seemed one step ahead of you. I have every confidence Scorpius and Albus will be as good a team as their fathers.” She glowed with the words. “Nothing can stand against your bloodlines when they stand together.”

“Here I thought that was you and Harry,” Draco said wryly. He didn’t like the idea, but between Luna and Scorpius, he had little chance. His only hope was Harry would agree with him it was a bad idea.

“I think he would disagree, Draco. You always shone too bright for him to see anyone else.”

“Luna…”

She clasped his hand and smiled. “We all knew it. And were glad you loved him. If you’d used him… well, that would have been very different.”

Draco laughed. “Yes, I’m sure you all would have fallen upon me and torn me to shreds. Tonks in the lead.” Harry’s wives brought another of Draco’s worries to mind, though. He turned to his son. “But what of a wife, Scorpius? No woman would stand to be second. Not in a situation where you pledge your troth to her and her alone.”

“Al… we’ve been working on that. But… we think we know one who would be willing.”

Taken aback at that revelation, it was all Draco could do not to scowl. This visit appeared as though it would be one revelation after another. “Oh? Who?”

“Rose.”

“Ah.” Rose took after her mother Hermione, and had spent many years as a page helping Minerva in her tasks in the palace before she had passed on her mantle. “And what do Ron and Hermione think of this?”

“We haven’t talked to them yet. But how can they possibly refuse to consider their daughter becoming my queen?” He had a smirk on his face looking remarkably like one Draco remembered sometimes seeing on his father’s face, though on his son, it was far less chilling.

“You might want to deal with that while you are here. Her father has become… protective of late.” Rose was quite sought after. She was truly one of the most sought-after girls in the kingdom, next to Harry’s daughters. There was speculation she would marry James, though Draco knew it was unlikely. He had set his sights on a young woman from Gallia, and their betrothal would be announced within the next few months. Still, it made Rose’s company quite the sought after commodity, and made Ron more and more protective of his daughter’s virtue as time went on. It wouldn’t be a simple thing to convince him, even if Scorpius were successful in restoring Malus. Still, Draco was sure they’d manage to convince him eventually.

“We plan to, father.”

“Yes, we do.” Draco turned at hearing Albus’s voice, smiling at the sight of he and Harry in the doorway.

“Did your son tell you what he’s gotten up to?” Draco asked.

“He admitted what the boys have planned. Finally. I’ve known they were up to something for a while.” Harry moved to Draco’s side and slid an arm around his waist. “He’s always been transparent to me. I can’t say I can deny the allure.” He winked at Draco, then kissed him softly.

“What, you want to run off with Scorpius, too?” Draco asked, smirking.

Harry snorted. “I’m rather pleased with his father, actually.”

“Good.” Mollified a little, Draco glanced at his son, who was now holding Al’s hand, looking wary. “Do you love him?”

Scorpius’s cheeks went pink. “Yes, father. I love him very much.”

Draco glanced at Albus. “You will take care of him?” he asked softer.

Albus nodded. “Yes. Though to be honest, though I have a year on him, he’s always been the one to take care of me.” He turned and kissed his cheek. “One of the many reasons I fell in love with him.”

Hearing the word wasn’t so much surprising, but it did help. He leaned into Harry’s embrace. “Just promise me you’ll be careful?”

“Always, father,” Scorpius said with a wide smile, moving to his side and hugging him.

“As though Scorpius wasn’t his father’s son,” Luna said, beaming wide. 

Father and son turned to her, and Scorpius walked to her to give her a hug.

“I’d say he has quite a bit of his mother, as well, being able to wrong-foot me,” Draco replied with a smirk.

Harry laughed. “Well, someone needs to be able to say no to you…”

Shooting Harry a look, Draco smirked. “Oh? Are you complaining?”

“Not at all, my love!” Harry said quickly, giving him another squeeze.

“Good.” Draco kissed his cheek, then turned back to Scorpius. “So what are your plans before you go? Aside from talking to Rose’s parents, that is.”

“We’ve been talking about visiting Sirius and Remus. They weren’t here last time we visited.”

Draco gave Harry a squeeze. Sirius’s health had never fully recovered from his captivity. There were some days when he forgot he was free, and others where he didn’t even remember Harry’s father was dead. It was increasingly hard to watch. Remus never complained, despite it all. Draco had watched the love between them grow, and hoped he and Harry would always be in as much love as they were.

“Sirius was having one of his bad spells,” Harry said softly.

“How is he doing?” Albus asked.

“He’s mostly recovered, but Remus has wanted to keep him close to home of late. I’m sure they’d love to see you.” Though more likely than not, Sirius would think Al was Harry, and Scorpius Draco. There were days he would have no clue who Draco was. It was wrenching, though he knew it was far more so for Harry to be called by his father’s name, and to hear Sirius speak so casually about his mother, as though she were still alive.

The boys looked sad, but Scorpius nodded. “We’ll have to go see them soon, then,” he said, giving Albus a squeeze.

“I should probably go back and take a nap if I want to be able to stay up for your welcome home feast tonight,” Luna sighed.

Hannah nodded. “It wouldn’t do for you to push yourself, my lady.”

Luna nodded, then turned to the boys. “But first, one more hug from each of you.”

Grinning, the boys did so, their arms curling around her at the same time, surrounding her in their love. 

“Love you, mother,” Scorpius said softly.

“Sweet dreams,” Albus added.

“I think they will be,” she said with a happy smile, then let the guard help her to her feet.

Once she was gone, Scorpius turned to his father. “We should go see if Sirius and Remus are free before the feast, I think. Unless you think they’ll be at the feast tonight?”

“Everyone will, but I’m sure they would love to see you before as well,” Harry assured him.

“Good. We will see you at supper, then.”

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t,” Albus added with a wink before they disappeared.

Draco snorted, then turned to Harry. “Now there’s something I never wanted to hear from them.”

“Could have been far worse, love,” Harry said softly, kissing him. “Maybe we should go to bed as well?”

“A nap? Are you feeling tired already, sire?” Draco asked with a smirk, knowing what Harry truly wanted.

“Oh, I can think of a few things we could do in the bed that have nothing to do with sleep,” Harry answered with a grin, squeezing him close.

Unfortunately, before they could get back to their rooms, servants and pages continually stopped them, asking for opinions, requests and decisions for the feast. By the time they made it back to the Sultan’s room, it was already time to change for the feast. 

“Tonight, pet,” Harry said, kissing Draco before letting him help him dress.

“Promises, promises,” Draco jokingly chided him as he headed to their wardrobe to find clothes for them both.

“Exactly,” Harry said, smirking. 

Draco grinned. “Should I wear one of my old slave outfits, too?”

“To the feast?” Harry asked, obviously alarmed at the prospect.

“Well… if you really wanted…” It was easy to tease when Draco knew the idea alarmed Harry. The chance of him actually taking him up on the offer was just about non-existent, and so Draco’s risk was minimal at best.

Harry caught the smirk on Draco’s face as he turned away, and his eyes narrowed. He caught him by the waist and pulled him close. “I think that little joke will be worth a spanking, pet.”

Draco stilled, the threat making him shiver in Harry’s arms. “Oh?” he asked, flushing at how breathless he sounded.

“Oh, yes,” Harry whispered. “Until you’re writhing on my lap and your arse is red.”

Swallowing a moan, Draco turned and kissed him hungrily. “Yes. Please, sire.”

They barely managed to drag themselves away from each other and dress properly before Harry needed to make his appearance, and Draco could still feel the sting in his face as he settled on the other side of his son, who raised an eyebrow at his flush. Despite the fact Draco wanted nothing more than to be in Harry’s arms, he managed to lose himself in good food, talking with his son, and entertainment in the form of a group of dancers from Gallia. Time went surprisingly fast, and before long, Harry was rising to his feet declaring he was too old a man to stay up past midnight, and he would have to take his leave. He asked Draco to escort Luna to her rooms for the night, his way of giving Draco a discrete exit himself before he took his leave.

Draco wished his son good night, then stood and offered Luna an arm. “Ready for bed, my lady?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Yes, thank you, Draco.” He helped her to her feet, and only then did she murmur in his ear. “It is only too bad I cannot join you and Harry in yours tonight. I am sure it will be something quite beautiful to watch.”

Draco felt his cheeks burn again, but he smiled. “We will have to do that for you soon. When you are well-rested.” He winked, then kissed her softly on the cheek as he handed her off to Hannah at the door to her rooms, then made his way up the hall to Harry’s rooms.

When he entered the room, he was surprised to find the bed empty, and looked around for Harry, startling when he heard Harry speak from the darkness of a corner. “I believe slaves are supposed to wait upon the cushion until they have been spoken to?”

Draco hadn’t used the cushion in years, as Harry had long ago done away with it, but when Draco glanced down where it once sat, he saw one of the lounging cushions there. Flushing, Draco dropped to his knees, then bowed his head, utterly silent. A slave never spoke unless directly spoken to, and Harry had not said anything needing a verbal response.

“Aren’t you a lovely one?” Harry said, his voice low and husky. He stepped out into the light, and though Draco didn’t look up, he could see the hem of Harry’s formal robes as he moved closer. “How was it I managed to miss you for so long? I thought I’d had every pretty boy in the Slave Quarter. Tell me your name, boy.”

Heart beating faster, Draco glanced up at Harry, then licked his lips before answering, his surprise at the sudden game being subsumed in the memory of when Harry had shown him he had, indeed noticed him.

“I’m… new, sire. The slavemaster thought I might… appeal?”

Harry smiled. “Mmm… he knows my likes well.” He reached out to stroke Draco’s cheek. “Show me how well you have been trained, boy. On the edge of the bed. Show me your arse.” Draco nodded, moving quickly and efficiently, stepping out of his trousers before perching on the edge of the bed and pressing his arse into the air. Without warning, Harry smacked his arse, first one side, then the other, causing Draco to cry out, then kneaded the soft flesh. “Oh, yes. Lovely, indeed.” He smacked him again, harder, and Draco thrust back for more. “Eager, are you?”

Feeling his cheeks warm, Draco nodded. “Feels good.”

“Good.” Harry began a steady series of blows, drawing more cries from Draco, then stopped, stroking over his back. “Lovely and red. Are you ready for more, pretty boy?”

“Yes, Sire,” Draco whispered, swallowing thickly.

With no more warning than that, Harry thrust a finger into him and began to stretch him, causing him to shudder. There was no pain at all, aside from the sting in his arse, only pleasure, and he pushed back into the feeling. “Open for me, boy. So tight. You’ll be perfect around me.” 

Draco relaxed easily around Harry’s fingers, wanting badly to feel him inside already. “Oh… please, sire.”

“I will have to give my slavemaster a raise, I think,” Harry murmured. Then the finger was gone, and Harry was pressing into him, and Draco cried out, clenching around him. 

“Ohgod! Yes… please fuck me.”

“Oh, I will.” Harry’s voice was so husky, it sent another shudder through him, and he pushed back into Harry’s thrusts, moaning as they quickly increased. The two men moved together, two decades of knowing one another more than enough to let each know just what the other needed, each thrust, each touch, each cry a part of the whole they needed from each other. Draco pressed into each thrust, his cries growing louder to encourage Harry to thrust faster and deeper. 

It wasn’t long before the two men were coming, and Draco collapsed onto the bed, Harry stretched out atop him. “Love you,” he whispered into Draco’s ear.

“Mmm… I love you, Harry.” This was where he belonged. Where he was meant to be. Safe in his Sultan’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading along! I've got a few more NaNoWriMo fics to get through after this one, but this one is definitely my favorite, so I'm glad it was so well-received.
> 
> If you're a Merlin fan, stay tuned! Next fic is the Merlin version of the Sword in the Stone!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Whole New War](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1400566) by [Black_Winter_Rose_Thorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Winter_Rose_Thorn/pseuds/Black_Winter_Rose_Thorn)




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